Indebted
by decembermarie
Summary: When delicate Annie Cresta is reaped for the Games, she loses herself almost entirely. It is up to her protective mentor, Finnick, to help her through training, keep her alive. Make her feel loved. Let the 70th annual Hunger Games begin! FinnickxAnnie
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**The Reaping, the beginning.**

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><p>Annie hadn't slept in days. Her green eyes were dull from lack of sleep, in contrast to the rest of her body that was on-edge and shaking as she stood in the square, roped off in an area of other sixteen-year-olds. The square was damp from the night's rain, making it appear even grayer and depressing on that Reaping Day. Annie could hear her nervous heartbeat in the inner caverns of her ears.<p>

She felt as though she was about to just kill over right there in the square. The stress of the approaching reaping had been so intense that this morning, she felt seasick for the first time in years when she went out on the boats with her brothers. Having lived in District Four for her entire life and spending nearly all of her free time on the water made that an incredible cause for concern to her brothers, and prompted them to dock early and fetch a doctor. Annie hated having people dote on her like they did, but it was well worth it because whatever the doctor had given her had calmed her enough that she could stand at the Reaping without completely losing her mind.

A stage had been set up in the center of the cobblestone square, just as it was every year, and the children of the district aged twelve to eighteen were corralled into roped sections before it, with the oldest in the front. The parents were lined up around the perimeter, each crossing their fingers in hope that their proud little Career will be reaped. Annie was different. The Games were a far off nightmare to her, something she dreaded each year. She had always been too small to train as a Career, so without that reassurance and skill under her belt, fearing the Games came all too easy. All five of her older brothers had trained lightly through their years of eligibility, though mostly focusing on fishing and sailing, just so they could stand a chance in the Arena because they wanted to take out as much tesserae as they could each year. Her parents didn't want their only daughter to strain herself with the pressure of training, so she didn't. And now she stands in the square, coated in a sheer layer of nervous sweat, listening to her racing heartbeat.

She cut through crowds of enormous boys, years younger than her, and monstrous ones hardly any older, and girls that appeared rather average, but could easily snap her in half just to get to the end of the ropes. Annie found all of her brothers standing there, along with her mother. While attendance to the Reaping Ceremony was mandatory, her father and his fishing crew appeared in the square late every year, but it slipped under the noses of the Peacekeepers unnoticed because they haul in more fish than anyone else docking at the bay. Vance reaches out to take his sister's shaking hand and envelopes it tightly to reassure things will be alright. Beside him, her mother smiles, though her dark green eyes are sad that one of her children is still on the other side of the ropes. Mrs. Cresta had gone through five children up for grabs at the Reaping, and now that everyone but Annie was safe, the ceremony was even harder for her. Annie felt terribly guilty, and it took all of her brothers to convince her not to worry about it when she flips out.

"You're not going to be picked," Vance whispers in her ear, dropping her hand to wrap his arms around her. He holds his sister's head delicately against his shoulder. Annie had always felt closest to Vance out of all of her brothers; she couldn't say it was because they were the closest in age, because four years is a fairly large gap for siblings, but because he didn't baby her like the rest of her family. "We didn't let you take out any tesserae for a reason. Your name is only on five of those slips – what are the odds?"

"Ever in her favor," grunts the oldest, Fletcher, glaring across the crowds of Career tributes crawling over one another to get closest to the stage. His dark tone was laced with the clipped Capitol accent, something that is openly mocked throughout the district. Annie hated how uncomfortable the Games made him; he suffered worse than anyone she knew this time of year. Several years ago, before she was even eligible for the Games, Fletcher had been sweet on the girl who was selected. Annie remembered him, hunched over on his knees, sobbing because he had just been forced to watch the girl sliced open in the Arena by another tribute on the big screen that broadcast the Games across the square. Her heart still aches for him when she thinks about it.

Annie glances into Vance's dark eyes as she pulls away from him, keeping her brother at an arm's length. He has never looked so much like their father before now; Annie had never noticed it before. Maybe she was seeing things differently because she knows it could very well be the last time she ever looks into the faces of her family.

She gives his hands one last squeeze as she sees Gossamer Swarm, the woman who escorts the tributes from District Four every year, trotting happily to the stage beside the mayor out of the corner of her eye. Annie knows that means the Reaping will begin soon. Her heart sinks past the pit of her stomach and she turns toward the stage again, not finding herself able to release Vance's hand.

The mayor approaches the podium, clears his throat, and leans down over the microphone to begin his speech. It is the same, monotonous lecture every year about how the districts owe everything to the Capitol and the Hunger Games remind them of the rebellion known as the Dark Days, how they take away defenseless kids and throw it in the districts' faces that there is nothing they can do about it. The mayor's voice fades into the noise of the restless Careers in the crowd, something Annie has already drowned out. She spends the extra moments clinging to Vance, refusing to let go, praying that things will go quickly and she can return home to sleep off the anxiety that builds in her before the Reaping – just as she did every year.

Next, Gossamer Swarm steps to the podium, smiling. Her appearance has literally stayed the same all of these years, unchanged by the ever varying fashion seasons in the Capitol. Annie thinks that she looks so plastic it is hard to believe the woman thinks she looks good like that, what with her plump lips died crimson and her jet black hair unnaturally straight. For the slightest second that Gossamer spends adjusting the microphone to her height, Annie's heart stops abruptly and picks up beating even faster than it had before.

"Welcome, welcome," chirps the woman in her irritating Capitol. Annie expects heartbreak when she hears Gossamer speak, it triggers the remembrance of every District Four tribute she has walked up onto that stage, cheering and celebrating, and then never returning home. Of course, there were those who did return, like Finnick Odair, the handsome teenager who easily passes as a man and mentors the tributes every year. He won five years ago at fourteen, shocking everyone. Annie sees him standing at the back of the stage, waiting beside an elderly, wrinkled woman propped up on her cane, and instantly is sick to her stomach – she spent his Hunger Games hiding her eyes so she didn't have to watch him spearing people to death with a trident. Gossamer reads the list of winners from District Four, and it is quite lengthy, and Annie's heart drops even further at the mention of Mr. Odair. The Capitol woman then asks who would like to be added to the list next, and particularly the older Careers cheer with excitement. "Happy Hunger Games! Now let's begin!"

"Ladies first," growls Fletcher somewhere behind her at the same time as Gossamer. Everything they listen to at the Reaping Ceremony is the same every year, and he has heard it more than any of the Cresta children.

Annie wills the woman not to reach into the large glass ball containing the slips of paper with all of the eligible girls' names in the district. But her slender hand dips inside, anyway. The brunette girl thinks she might seriously pass out. Her head is throbbing and her vision is growing blurry as Gossamer plucks a single slip of paper from the top.

"Annie Cresta!" Gossamer smiles into the microphone.

The world dissolves from under her feet and she crashes to her knees on the cobblestone. Nothing is real. Not crashing against her brother's shins, not his arms wrapping around her protectively, not the Peacekeepers finding her and ripping her away from Vance and carrying her to the stage. She drops into a heaving pile at Gossamer's feet. Annie couldn't manage to get enough air into her lungs. All that is swimming through her mind was that she was never going to see her family again.

Her green eyes scan the crowd for her family. Annie's mother has run off to her father, who had just stepped into the square. She doesn't want him to see her on the stage, she doesn't want anyone to have to see her at this moment, but she knows that every television screen in Panem is showing her face. Even if her father can't see her, Annie is on the screens all around the square. She watches Vance break down into tears, Fletcher is throwing punches at the Peacekeepers, and her other brothers – Nero, Penn, and Spensa – are rushing over to their parents.

A strong pair of hands grips her shoulders from behind, holding her still. Annie's head snaps around, eyes wide and glossed with tears. She finds herself staring into the incredible sea green eyes of Finnick Odair. His face triggers images of him poising the trident in the air, ready to strike like a poisonous snake. She scrambles away from him. Somewhere in the back of her distraught mind, Annie knows that every woman in the Capitol must think she is insane; this is a Victor with a string of lovers there and a million more fangirls absolutely drooling over him. Annie digs her nails into the stage, defensively glaring at him.

"Just relax," he whispers to her, stroking her back lightly. Finnick Odair's voice is a seductive purr that utterly enthralls her. Despite having built up a wall to brace herself from him, Annie relaxes under his fingertips. "I know it's a lot to take in right now. Just make it through the first night. Things will get easier, I promise. I'll protect you."

"No," she gasps. "No, no, no, no, no, no." Annie wants to collapse on the stage, but she keeps her eyes open for the sake of the cameras. She knows that playing weak hardly ever works well as a strategy.

Annie catches herself quickly. She is already thinking of strategies and sponsors and the Games, meaning she has accepted being shipped off to die. This isn't real, she tells herself, but Annie knows that it is and there is no helping it.

She has entirely missed the selection of a male tribute, her partner, and is now watching a monstrous young _man _bounce to the stage, prompting cheers from fellow Careers. Annie recognizes him vaguely, and can't place her finger on it, so she decides that she just sees him hanging around the docks before she spends too much time trying to remember something that she never really knew. She catches people chanting his name from the crowd. "Rayne Saltwood." Another pang of familiarity strikes her.

"Let's hear a big round of applause for the newest tributes of District Four!" cheers Gossamer, throwing her twiggy arms into the air in celebration. _Of course she does_, thinks Annie, _because the Games to her are just another celebration in the Capitol._"Congratulations, Annie and Rayne! May the odds be ever in your favor!"

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><p>The Justice Building is very expensive looking, with thick carpets and glossy walls and polished furniture. It was a nice distraction to Annie; it reminded her that not everything in the world was awful and ugly like the Hunger Games. She stood, crashed against her father's chest, tucked under his arm like it was the ratty old blanket she had kept on the end of her bed and wrapped herself in every night before she fell asleep. These were her last goodbyes, the last she would ever see of her parents and her brothers. Annie felt heavier, despite being thin from never having just enough food, weighed down by sorrow.<p>

In the corner of the room, Rayne sat in an armchair, muscular arms wrapped around a little girl, maybe seven years old, with his same dark hair and bright eyes that Annie assumed was his sister. His entire demeanor had shifted from the typical, mindless, strength-driven Career to a real person before her eyes. She noticed that he didn't have parents there, meaning the girl would be left alone. Annie felt guilty.

"Take care of her while I'm gone," she told her mother, nodding to Rayne and his sister, choking on her words. Annie looked her mother in the eye and saw every night of being kissed as she was tucked into bed and rainy afternoons collecting flowers on the hillside for her and learning how to tie knots to form fishing nets from the woman flash before her.

Her mother smiled sadly at her, tears swelling in her eyes. She nodded in agreement, sniffling and wiping away tears. Mrs. Cresta threw her arms around her daughter, tugging her away from her father, and squeezing her until there wasn't a breath of air left in her lungs. Annie breathed in the woman's saltwater scent, tinged with the deliciousness of homemade bread, knowing that it was the little things she would miss the most.

"Stay strong," gulped Vance, patting his sister on the shoulder. "Someone has to."

It was hard enough the first time, all those years ago, when the girl that Fletcher had fallen for was whisked off to the Arena. Annie remembered how because her brother was depressed and heartbroken, it brought the entire family down and the Games that year took an especially hefty toll on them. None of them could bear to see him so upset, and hardly anyone could stay strong for Fletcher. Now, watching their own daughter snatched from their hands, Annie knew that her family would fall apart. She glanced at Fletcher over her mother's shoulder, and it was like the darkness had surfaced again, as he was digging into his fleshy palms with his nails and gritting his teeth to keep from crying.

Annie nodded at Vance quickly, overwhelmed with guilt for what she has brought upon her family. She wanted to throw up she was feeling so sick, but she hadn't eaten since yesterday because she was so nervous, so there was nothing in her to keep down. Annie was wrecked with remorse.

There were hardly any words to be said between the family other than bidding "I love you" to Annie. Each time the girl heard one of her siblings tell her to come home alive, she wanted to shatter into a million pieces. She wanted to scream in frustration, to tell them there was no way she would return safe and sound like they wanted her to – she wasn't skilled or strong like tributes should be. But Annie wasn't going to kill their only slim chance of hope. Maybe they were depending on the fact that District Four is well liked by sponsors in the Capitol, that maybe Annie could be saved by them since there was nothing they could do.

Annie's final hour with her family ends too quickly and soon a Peacekeeper is reaching to pull her away from her mother. The brunette haired girl scrambles away from his harsh touch in fear when Finnick Odair steps in. She stares at him in shock.

"Please, let me take care of this," he tells the Peacekeeper. Annie willingly steps away from her mother, giving the woman one last kiss on her cheek. It feels ghostly, unreal to leave. Finnick Odair wraps his arm around the girl's frail shoulders and leads her to the door. Under his touch, she begins to understand why so many women love him in the Capitol. "I told you I would protect you."

"Yes," mutters Annie, forcing herself not to glance back at her family. She can hear her mother breaking down into a sob behind her. They step outside the Justice Building and once the doors close; she is cut off from her family forever. She wants to cry, herself.

Annie, Finnick Odair, Rayne, and Rayne's mentor – the old woman, Mags – climb into a cab that will take them to the train station. This is the girl's first time ever riding in a car, since it is a luxury to ride in cars in District Four and she has always preferred the boats anyway. It was like paddling out onto the bay on the calmest morning possible.

"Please stop shaking," Finnick Odair pleas quietly, under his breath. Annie hadn't even realized that she was still quivering. She looked to her mentor, amazed by his incredible sea green eyes, apologetically.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, scooting towards the window, scooting away from him. It only provided a gap between them of several inches, but it was more than enough for Annie. "I'm sorry…"

Finnick Odair took the girl's hand in his own, brought it to his lips, and kissed her knuckles. Amusingly, he watched the girl's cheeks turn bright red innocently. "Don't be," he tells her. "I know it's awful."

"But you won!" she gasps through tears, turning to him with fury in her eyes. Annie knows that she will never return home, the fact is just taking its sweet time sinking in. She will never see her lovely family ever again, and that's what hurts her the most. "I won't be going home, er, Mr. Odair!" Annie spits out fiercely.

He grins and looks down to hide his expression, bringing his free hand up to hide his eyes. His bronze skin glows in the sunlight that now pours in through the windows, the sky having cleared. Annie's blush deepens. "Finnick," he corrects her.

She bits her lip, embarrassed. "Alright." Annie looks away from him to avoid flustering herself further, but her eye catches their hands, still entwined, resting on Finnick's thigh. She wants to pull away, but feels too comforted by his touch to risk going without it.

They arrive at the train station, only to find the platforms swarming with reporters and photographers and camera crews. Somewhere amidst the madness, the group meets Gossamer Swarm, whose duties apparently don't end at the Reaping Ceremony. She leads them through the mess, which causes Annie more stress than the whole situation is worth. The brunette watches her face up on the screens, knowing that her face is being broadcast across Panem. She appears calm on the outside, which is good, until her face falls when she notices that she and Finnick are still holding hands.

At just about the same, one of the reporters in the throng around them realizes it too and calls out, "Finnick Odair has a new plaything!"

Annie watches Finnick play it off well, just smiling and waving to several cameras before helping her board the train. Annie waits for him behind her in the slim doorway, her hand feeling incomplete without him holding it.

"I'll help you get settled," offers Gossamer kindly, extending a hand to Annie as she climbs onto the train. Finnick nods her off and Annie follows the Capitol woman down the narrow hallway. She is more anxious than ever, lightheaded and nauseous, without her mentor at her side. Her family's sobs ring in her ears and her breathing is weak and staggered.

Annie began to realize that she needed Finnick.

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><p><strong>Thank you so much for reading! I sincerely appreciate it and hope you enjoyed it. Please review!<strong>

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hunger Games.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**Where Annie makes a promise.**

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><p>Alone in the bedroom Gossamer had showed to her, Annie was distant and unreachable. She had wrapped herself in a plush comforter and curled up on the foot of the bed, staring blankly out the window at the passing horizons. Despite it being one of the most expensive blankets she had ever seen, Annie was longing for the tattered thing she kept on her bed back home, thin and frayed and doused in salt water many times over. It seemed to be growing sunnier outside with every mile the train travels away from District Four, ironically, and that bothered her. When Gossamer appeared in her doorway to beckon her to dinner, she couldn't even look at the woman.<p>

"Annie," Gossamer snapped at her, voice laced with concern. She waved her hand in front of the girl's face, trying desperately to get her attention. When Annie finally looked away from the window, she was panged with guilt for the worry in Gossamer's glittering eyes. "Oh, good," sighed the woman, "I thought something was seriously wrong with you for a second! Don't scare me like that!"

Sadly, it reminded Annie of something her mother might have said. She dragged her fingers across the inside of her blanket-cocoon, paying attention to each individual thread, itching to be home. "Alright," she agreed. Her voice sounded awkward, even to herself.

"Time for dinner!" repeated Gossamer, pulling the comforter away from Annie's shoulders. Pure shock crossed her plastic features when she glanced her over. Annie assumed that it was because she had stayed in her clothes from the Reaping, her mother's blue dress that buttoned up the front and was now covered in dirt and drenched in sweat from her dramatic reaction in the square, despite Gossamer showing her the bathroom and the drawers of fine clothes when she first entered the room. "This will not do," she scolded, tugging at the Annie's sleeve.

Annie drew in a sharp breath. She hadn't done what she was told the first time around, so the least she could do was obey Gossamer now – even if she wanted nothing more to cling to her mother's dress. She nodded, letting the comforter drop to a pile around her on the mattress.

The black haired woman was already rummaging through dresser drawers, looking for something appropriate for a tribute to wear. Annie knows that was one of Gossamer's biggest issues to take care of every year for the Games, the woman has always made a public point through televised interviews that the way a tribute presents themselves is one of the most important things before they enter the arena. In her head, she hears Vance saying how ridiculous the whole thing is, like he did every year, how they just want the children slaughtered and it never matters if they look good or not. Vance had said a lot of things to Annie that would normally be frowned upon in the district, negative things about the Games and the Capitol itself, knowing that his words would be safe because his sister knew how to keep her mouth shut. Annie watched the woman hold up a shapeless piece of red fabric.

"It compliments your dark hair!" squealed the woman happily. Annie hoped that not everyone in the Capitol was this shallow. Gossamer threw the crimson thing into Annie's lap, where she held it up to herself in confusion. What was it? A shirt? A dress? It could pass as either…

"What is it?" asked Annie timidly. She balled the fabric up in her hands, trying to hide it from herself. Whatever it was, she knew she wouldn't be comfortable in it, despite it being insanely soft.

"It's a dress!" Gossamer was astounded that Annie couldn't tell, she could hear it in her voice. The woman handed her a thick chestnut belt, and Annie noticed that it was the same color as the buttons on the dress's sleeves and collar. It was beautiful, she had to admit, but it was nothing like she had ever seen in District Four, the place she was clinging to at the moment. Gossamer took Annie's bony wrists and yanked her off the bed.

The brunette stumbled to her feet, head reeling. She was compliant as Gossamer peeled her mother's dress off of her, standing absolutely still without saying a word. Her heart jolted painfully as she watched the blue fabric be thrown across the room carelessly, landing on the floor on the other side of the bed where she couldn't see it. Gossamer pulled the red dress over her head, and it fit to Annie's body about as well as a pillow case would. She strapped the belt under her bust and fastened it tightly there. Annie felt as if she couldn't breathe.

Annie fell back onto the mattress in disappointment when she learned that Gossamer wasn't done with tidying her up. Her stomach growled loudly, hungrily, as the black haired woman scrubbed the dirt off of her knees and her face from the Reaping with a damp cloth. She nearly cried when Gossamer brushed through her hair, not only ripping through knots, but taking apart the lovely up do her mother had styled. Annie allowed her mind to drift, hoping to distract herself, and wondered if Finnick would be at dinner too.

However, distractions took a cruel turn for the worst. In thinking of happier things, cheerful times, it brought her to an afternoon on the beach as an eleven-year-old, naïve and safe from the Reaping. Annie was sitting cross-legged in the damp sand, melting in the fresh breeze that rolled in off of the waves. She had passed out in the square when she was watching the Games, sick from seeing Finnick Odair spearing people with his trident, and was carried off to the beach by Fletcher and Vance. There, Fletcher spent the rest of the day teaching little Annie to tie knots, while Vance was beside them, picking sand out from between his toes. An exchange of words passed between the siblings that day, but Annie couldn't remember the words of it now, just calm tone of voices they used with her and how she was soothed by them. Now, she was haunted by her childish fear of Finnick Odair.

"There," smiled Gossamer encouragingly, running her fingers through Annie's dark hair. She quickly pulled her hand away and wiped the grease and grime off on her sleeve discreetly. "Much better. Now let's get to dinner!"

Annie followed the short, prissy woman to the narrow hallway, where she was lead to the dining car. Since she had been in her room for so long, she had spent no time growing accustomed to walking on the moving train – and it was much more disorienting than walking on a boat. They have taught in school that the Capitol trains are some of the fastest in the world, and always have been, traveling at over 250 miles per hour, but that still doesn't give Annie any idea how long it will take them to arrive in the Capitol. She cuts her thoughts short and slips into the dining car behind Gossamer.

It is almost a relief to see that they are the last two to arrive, just as it is to see that the room reflects so much of District Four that it's a tad scary. The polished wood panels on the wall have designs carved into them that resemble fishing nets, just as all of the doors in the market do. Annie sat in between Finnick and Rayne, shifting uncomfortably in her itchy dress every few seconds. She tried to keep her thoughts revolving around the warmth of the room or the carvings in the walls to distract herself, but she kept glancing down at Finnick's hand resting on the table, and she couldn't decide if she would have liked to be holding it or fearing it because it was too easy to picture him holding the trident with it.

"I see that Gossamer has gotten her hands on you," purrs Finnick in his usual seductive tone. His sea green eyes were smiling while his lips were hidden behind his hand, casually hovering over his mouth. "You look very pretty, little plaything."

Annie's cheeks were dusted pink with blush. "Thank you," she whispered, hardly audible, though she didn't really know if she should accept it as a compliment. The reporter from the train station's voice was ringing in her ears. "_Finnick Odair has a new plaything!_" She was the tribute, shipped off to be murdered, and he was her mentor, anything else was wildly inappropriate. Annie turned away from him.

"I heard what you said to your mother," Rayne says, entirely out of the blue. Annie looks to him, a bit startled. His soft tone of voice didn't match his harsh facial features and his ruthless demeanor. "About my sister. I wanted to say thanks."

The brunette nodded. It made her sad to think of the little girl, left alone as her brother is sent to the Arena. Such things were just what she needed to haunt her mind to keep her from sleeping for several nights. She shrank into her chair, though most of her petite body was already hidden under the table. "I wasn't just going to let her be alone," Annie assured him. "It would be more trouble for them _not _to take care of her, anyway."

"I just felt so awful, standing on stage, watching her scream," he muttered. This is slightly surprising, since when Rayne was on stage, he was excited and bouncing around and encouraging cheers from the Careers in the crowd – because he was one of them. Annie had assumed he had been happy about being selected, could it have been an act? "She had to be carried out of the square by Peacekeepers."

"I didn't realize," she gasped. Annie found talking to Rayne was easier than she expected, he was the only other person who understood the pain of the Reaping and the longing for District for. Or, at least, she assumed that he understood those things. He reminded her a tad of Fletcher, trying to be tough on the outside when things are taking a severe toll on the inside. "So, you're not the typical Career then, are you?"

He shrugs his broad shoulders. "I don't know," Rayne admits. "I trained like hell until my parents died. I was a year away from being out of the Reaping, guess I wasn't so lucky. I might as well fight it out now that I'm committed to the Games. What about you? You've never trained at all, have you?"

Annie shakes her head. The way he speaks is so judgmental that it's painful for her to listen to. However, it was not enough to guilt her into feeling like she should have spent years training for the Games. She is still perfectly content knowing that her years were well spent, happy, tying knots, sailing with her brothers, helping her mother look after their little cottage on the bay. "Never," she confirms.

"Well, I'm going to take care of that," murmured Finnick alluringly in Annie's ear, having leaned over so his head rested comfortably in the arch of the girl's shoulder. Not only was she flinching away from being startled and his sharp chin digging into sensitive skin, but his hot breath in her ear. She felt dirty from the way he acted around her; what would her family say about this?

"No," she told him. Annie didn't want to train, she had no urge to train, and she had no will to survive the Arena. She didn't want to know what it is like to survive the Games, with the faults of the Games ever on her shoulders. She desperately wished to disappear from the table altogether, but instead sat fidgeting more than ever. Annie even thought it might be a good idea to throw herself at the initial bloodbath that goes down at the Cornucopia as soon as the starting horn sounds, thinking that she wouldn't even try to survive to the end. "I can't do this."

"Of course you can," he reassures her, stroking her back lightly. For a moment, Annie doesn't think that he is putting forth the flirtatious act and that maybe he is serious about keeping her alive in the arena. He must be daft for thinking she'd make it through the first night. "I'm going to make sure of it." Finnick rises from his chair, leaving a cold spot on Annie's shoulder. "I'll be right back."

As soon as he had stepped out of the dining car, Mags spoke up for the first time. "Don't worry about him, Annie," says the elderly woman with a smile. "He knows what he's doing. You've got a good mentor."

Annie hadn't doubted that, but his attitude was something of question. "Does he always seem this attached to his tributes?" she asked.

"No, of course not. And that's why you're lucky." Mags winks.

Lucky is not the word she would use to describe herself, especially not today. Each of Annie's thoughts was still laced with depression, each bringing a small piece of her family to the front of her mind. She wanted nothing more than to forget all about the Reaping and return to her family's cottage in the poorest area of District Four. They were probably all tucked into bed by now, none of them able to sleep after watching her hauled off today. The Games would be particularly cruel to them this year; they wouldn't get any sleep in weeks. Vance was probably still up, watching the sun sink into the watery horizon. That was something the pair did every night before turning in to bed, they sat out on the rickety old porch and watched the sunset; Vance would do most of the talking, that was the time when he would rant about the Capitol or the Games or his irritating fishing crew. Annie always kept her mouth shut.

"I'll say," sighed Gossamer with a glint in her glittery eyes. "Training with dreamy Finnick Odair! Do you know how many girls in the Capitol would give anything to be in your place?"

Annie hardly thought that the girls in the Capitol would trade places with her, how many of the pampered brats – as Vance often called anyone in the Capitol, Gossamer included – would actually sign up for a fight to the death? Finnick was going to train her to stay alive, not seduce her like he would most of them. Of course, he already was trying to seduce her. She didn't think she could contain her anger when she spoke to Gossamer, so she hesitated before replying. Thankfully, Rayne spoke up for her.

"For a fight to the death on live television?" he demanded, slamming a muscular fist down onto the table. Silverware clattered. "I don't think so."

Annie whimpered at the sound of his frustration, his rage. She hated hearing someone so downright furious, even if she did half-expect it from a Career. The literal equilibrium in the dining car shifted as the train sped down a turn in the track. Her stomach did summersaults in her gut and she hung her head, closing out the rest of the world in hopes to keep whatever contents her stomach held down. She looked around the dining car when she gathered the strength, only to see that everyone else in the room appeared perfectly fine. She hid her face again.

There was only one other time that Annie could think of that she had felt so miserable before in her life. Of course, it was when Fletcher had been depressed over his sweetheart, when she felt that she couldn't talk to a single one of her family members. Annie had always been quiet, there were teachers at her school that have never heard her speak before in her life, but she appreciated knowing that she could talk to her parents if she ever needed anything. She felt that she had been shut out by her brothers, and that they were shutting each other out as well; her mother was always trying to console Fletcher and her father was taking extra shifts sailing just to get out of the house. Annie hadn't gone down to the docks once during that time in the Games, she had stayed home curled in the corner of her bedroom, crying.

"Annie?" asked Mags sweetly. "Are you alright?"

The girl could feel her throat closing up and the tears swelling in her eyes. Would her family fall apart like that again now that she was off to the Games? She hated to think about it, but it was a distant reality that she was still linked to. Annie began helplessly bawling. She wiped her eyes, but tears continued to wash down her cheeks, now drained of color. Unable to speak, because she knew her words would fail her, she shook her head.

Finnick's hand rested on her shoulder. She looked at it, sniffling, scolding herself for crying so loudly that she couldn't hear him come back into the room. "Come with me," he insists, extending his other hand to her.

Annie gripped his hand like a buoy thrown out to safe her from in a drowning in an ocean of tears. The pair pushed past two girls standing in the slim doorway, each carrying trays of food, and nearly knocked both of them off of their feet. The brunette felt her arm was going to be ripped off because she couldn't keep up with her mentor. Finnick brought her into a room, with the lights turned up so brightly it was difficult for Annie to see through her tears. From what she could gather, it was another bedroom.

Finnick placed his strong hands on either of her shoulders and dared to look her in the eye, even as a sniveling mess. "I am not going to baby you, Annie," he promised. The power in his voice was surprising enough to make her eyes widen to the size of saucers, it was so different from his seductive purr. "I am not going to take you saying that you can't train or that you don't want to compete in the Games. No one does. Not even the Careers. They want to win; they don't want to go through the stage where it's possible they could lose. I want you to be strong enough to try."

"Why?" she gasped through her tears. The faint taste of saltwater danced across her tongue. Annie could break her gaze away from Finnick's eyes, the ones that captivated her every time they caught her. "Why do I matter? Why is it so important? Why can't I just get myself killed and be done with it?"

"Because then my efforts to get you through hell will be worthless!" Finnick snaps at her. "I am going to do everything I can to get you to come back alive and not in a body bag! A girl like you has done nothing to deserve the Games."

Annie was wrapped up in the moment, though her mind spinning around a thousand different things. She stared up at Finnick, cheeks darkening bright red. "What?" her lips hardly formed the word. "What do you mean?"

He shook his head sadly. "I just want to be sure that you're going to work with me, I want you to come home." There was this awful nagging in the back of Annie's mind that Finnick was only saying that because it was his nature to please his lovers in the Capitol, and now her as well. "Got it?"

She doesn't want to believe that is how he is treating her, so she nods in response, though secretly doubting her mentor.

"All right, let's head back," he said, "because I can hear your stomach growling."

What did he expect? The girl has only ever eaten one decent sized meal every day, and it was well past the time supper was served at home. She supposed that she should readjust her internal clock soon, because things were not going to be the same in the Arena – or even the Capitol – and she had new motivation to succeed. Annie felt that Finnick was counting on her and she hoped to please him, to make him proud as mentors should be of their tributes.

Annie slinked down the hall behind him, dragging her tired feet. The delicious scents of the dining car wafted through the halls long before they arrived back, making her mouth water like mad. It was something stronger than all of the salt water in District Four, and just as homely and familiar. She recognized her family's favorite dish, which was so typically District Four it was a tad irritating, of clam and mussels stew from the moment she stepped inside the dinette, excitement in her eyes. Annie's heart sank in disappointment when she saw the empty bowls sitting before Gossamer and Mags, and the two hefty sized dishes cleared before Rayne. The two girls they had passed on the way out were clearing everyone's spaces, even the untouched bowls of stew at hers and Finnick's places. She sat down silently, without a complaint.

Her mind was wandering as the dining car remained silent. What made Finnick so determined to push her to do well? What on earth was he thinking? She felt awful that he was trying so hard, or planning to anyway, just for her. Or maybe it wasn't for her. Maybe she was thinking too selfishly. Annie's heart began to slowly shatter as she realized that maybe Finnick, the Capitol's favorite Victor ever, was simply trying to work her so hard that she was confident enough to go into the Arena and then get herself stupidly killed off, leaving him to his parade of lovers in the Capitol.

She glanced to Finnick, her green eyes not quick enough and soon captured by his. Annie tore herself away, blushing. She hated herself for being so enthralled with him, so desperate to figure him out. What did it matter? She would be dead in a handful of days anyway. Annie nearly passed out when his fingers grazed over her open palm, lying on the table. She gasped when he took her hand.

"You're more relaxed when I do this," he purred, nearly inaudible so only she could hear.

A plate of a spongy pink cake was placed before her, the 'waitress' gone before Annie could even look up at her. She ran her finger over the yellow frosting and dabbed it on her tongue, nervously tasting the icing. It was lemony, something she should have expected when she saw the colors. Her mother and father scraped together every spare coin they could one year to buy their children a cake, for a combined birthday party thrown for the six of them. It was a long time ago, back when Annie used to beg Nero to take her to the market square just to pass the bakery window and see the beautiful cakes sitting in the window – that was their special thing, the equivalent of watching the sunset with Vance. The taste vaguely lingered on her tongue, their cake had had yellow lemon frosting, too. It was the year that each one of them was eligible for the Reaping, aside from Annie. She scraped off a bite of pink cake with her fork and slid it past her lips. It was too sugary, too sweet. She liked the District Four cake much better.

"You've had the baker's cake before, haven't you?" asked Finnick, with a knowing gleam illuminating his eyes. It was hard to remember that he was from District Four as well, sometimes; Annie had forgotten it altogether until now. "You can always tell who has and who hasn't, at least when you're me. The baker's cake is better."

Annie stole a look over her shoulder at Rayne, who was happily enjoying his slice of cake. He had never had a cake from the bakery at home. She found herself happy to have more of a connection with Finnick than her partner now.

"This is just great!" exclaimed Gossamer, drawn-on eyebrows furrowed. Her index finger was awkwardly pressed into her ear, and she was leaning to that side as if she was trying to listen in on a conversation. "I have no idea how we are supposed to compete with that! Finnick, Mags, you better have some damn good ideas on how to play up these two for the cameras or we're simply screwed over."

Annie was shocked at her angry tone, she had never seen Gossamer fall apart like that on television before. The woman held a calm and collected composure like Finnick held Annie's gaze, insanely well. She cocked her head to the side, grimy hair piling onto her shoulder.

"There was a pair of twins Reaped from District Eleven!" she wailed, hiding her face in her hand. Annie's immediate reaction was a torrent of sorrow and sympathy for the pair, even if she hadn't even heard their names yet, that entirely overtook her mind. "Do you know how much attention they are going to get! It won't even matter how good the other tributes are! They're going to be the stars of the show!"

Finnick's grip around Annie's hand tightened, crunching her fingers together so they overlapped awkwardly. She grits her teeth and kept her lips pressed together.

"District Eleven never sends off any tributes that return home safe and sound," her mentor reminds Gossamer, soothingly. "That's District Four."

Rayne chuckled, thinking that Finnick had been talking about him.

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><p><strong>A quick author's note: please, please, pretty please don't expect that update every few days will be habit. I love writing this story whenever I can, but I have exams coming up in a few weeks and that means lots of time spent studying.<strong>

**Thank you for reading! Let me know if you enjoyed it or if there is anything I can improve on by reviewing!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Where Annie is practically seen naked.**

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><p>Annie refused to let go of Finnick's hand when the train pulled into the station. It went without saying that she was terrified of the Capitol, not fascinated and excited by it like Rayne was when he saw the skyline out the train window, and her mentor agreed to keeping by her side until she was safely inside the Remake Center. The reporters and photographers in the Capitol station had the same reaction to the pair holding hands as did the ones in District Four, only this time their accents were so disgustingly thick that Annie couldn't understand a word that they said. This made it easier on her, even though she knew they were positively ogling at her.<p>

Someone nudged her shoulder, causing her to jump and hide half of her face behind Finnick's arm. "Pretty cool, huh?" asked Rayne, grinning. To Annie, it was as if the thoughtful boy on the train that was stressed over leaving his sister behind had been trapped in the mountains they passed through on the way into the city, unable to stick around. "I could get used to the attention."

Beside her, Finnick grunted, as if in disapproval of what he was saying. She had thought he was paying more attention to the cameras than to their conversation and was startled by his stern reaction. He grits his teeth and turns his face in the direction opposite of them, beaming at the cameras. Annie couldn't help but think he enjoyed the spotlight a little too much.

"I don't like it," whimpered the girl. She squinted, defending her eyes from the harsh flashes. "I don't like it at all."

Mags' frail, wrinkled hand dropped onto her shoulder. "You'll be fine," she assured, tongue fumbling over her lips awkwardly. The woman smiled, and for the first time Annie could see how many teeth she was missing. "A couple of training sessions with that boy and you'll be more than ready to face anything!"

She stole a quick glance up at Finnick before looking back over her shoulder at Mags. Annie knew that the woman was just trying to be nothing but nice to her, but she still housed this uneasy feeling in her gut. Training with Finnick. Annie wondered if there was a swimming pool in the Training Center or a knot-tying station or something that she was already good at, which wasn't much, so she didn't look stupid when she was training in front of him – though she doubted the odds of either. Otherwise, that meant her time would surely be spent sword fighting or learning to spear, which made her shiver just thinking about the nightmare. Annie didn't want to be expected to take people out with a trident in the Arena just because she was from District Four like Finnick. "I hope you're right," she said convincingly.

One Capitol reporter shouted notably loud compared to the others, and as if on cue, Finnick dropped Annie's hand. She nearly burst out of her skin in shock as his leanly muscled arm slithered around her waist. "Hands off, she's mine!" he called out playfully. Finnick laughed, smiling brightly. Annie's mouth fell agape; his laugh was melodious and nothing short of beautiful. It was like raindrops sprinkling on the waves, only deeper.

The trip through station to another cab was rather uneventful from then on. The four of them squeezed into the back, while Gossamer slid comfortably into the front passenger seat, where she ranted about the stress of the Games to the driver and the mentors. She insisted that Rayne and Annie shouldn't listen to her, that anything she said was irrelevant to them – which it was – and would only make them worry more. Still, it was difficult for Annie to sit back and pretend not to listen to her when Gossamer was screeching about how they wouldn't get a single sponsor because of the twins in District Eleven.

There were times when she was asked to do the same at home, to not listen. Once, when the Capitol came to dispose of some material in one of its underground chambers kept off of the bay and it kept everyone off of the boats for two whole months, her father had been upset because things were running scarce around the house. He couldn't afford food and wasn't sure how much longer the Capitol's project was going to last, so he called a meeting with their mother and sent all of the kids into the other room while they talked. Seeing as it was only a two room house with extremely thin walls, Annie overheard every word as she sat in silence in her crowd of brothers. The tension and stress of her parents first made her skin crawl, and then absorbed through and seemed to linger in her veins for days. It was the first time the girl ever felt so helplessly miserable and brought on a string of depressions unnatural for an eight-year-old. That had also been the first night she and Vance stole to the porch and he began to spout off at her about the Capitol. She learned the important lesson of keeping her mouth shut that night.

Finnick patted her knee, allowed his hand to rest there for a moment, and then began drumming his fingers over the cap. He was more playful than Annie ever expecting he would be. "I think that we have an effective strategy for you," he said.

She cocked her head as she turned to him, eyes questioning what he meant before her words did. "And what would that be?" asked Annie.

"What are you talking about, Finnick!" gasped Gossamer exaggeratedly, turning around in her seat to look at them. Her glittery eyes were wide with curiosity, much like a child's, and her penciled-on eyebrows were sharply raised.

"One of the reporters thought that I had wooed her," chuckled Annie's mentor lightly, playing off the intensity of what he had said. Finnick seemed so genuine with his words. "And, they might be right, maybe I have!"

"I swear, Finnick–" Gossamer drew out her words exasperatedly, inviting herself to be cut short. Yet, she acted surprise when Finnick spoke up.

"Really, Gossamer, what more can you ask for?" Finnick smiled.

Annie couldn't help but think of the girls in the Capitol that would be having a field day over that smile. It was quite incredible.

She seemed to consider this for a moment, spinning around to face forward slowly. "Yes." Gossamer paused. "Yes. Yes. Yes!" She grew more excited with every exclamation. "Finnick, that is positively brilliant! I can see it now, the two of you posing for the cameras, training together, and such. Do you know how cute it would be to show the press pictures of you teaching her to fight? The two of you sweaty, pressed together, madly in love…"

"What?" Annie shrieked. Her heart was sick with embarrassment. What was this woman thinking? What would people think of her for doing that? Her brothers? Her parents? "Mentors and tributes don't train together, anyway! It's against the rules!" She didn't really know, she was just babbling and that was the only rebuttal that came out coherent.

Finnick's careful fingers ran up and down her thigh, trying to calm her down as best he could. "Shhh," he hushed her reassuringly, though his voice was lost before it reached her. Her roaring heartbeat had created a throbbing wall in Annie's inner ear and blocked out all other sound. She was worked up beyond repair, he knew this by the heated look on her face, and she needed to come down from this herself. "I agree with you, Gossamer," said Finnick over Annie's meltdown. "But I don't think we have to take it that far."

"Oh, please, Finnick," sighed the woman, Capitol accent coating her words rather thickly so it sounded like she was drooling molasses. "If you want her to make it out of the Arena, we're going to do anything that we can. And it isn't like you have such a problem with–"

"Gossamer!" It was Mags' who sliced the woman's words short. The old woman's bony fingers gripped her cane tightly as it rested against her knee. "The poor girl is having an anxiety attack! We can talk about this later."

Annie's chest and shoulders rose and fell with every desperate breath she sucked in, lungs swelling to the point where it was painful. Her head was swirling with a mix of swimming thoughts and listening to her own heart racing. The girl was struggling to calm herself, and to make matters worse, she could hear her parents scolding her for being in such a relationship with Finnick. Logic was absent and unable to remind her that she would be dead before they would even think of how inappropriate it was for her to be treating her mentor in such a way. She clamped down on her bottom lip and stopped breathing, allowing her face to darken even redder and time to blot her tears away.

"I've seen her freak out like this before," said Rayne. One would immediately assume he was talking about the Reaping. "When our fathers' boat busted a few propellers on the rocks outside of the bay and they had to row themselves in. I suppose it came on over time, but she was throwing a fuss down on the docks waiting for them to get back."

Annie remembered that, but it was news to her that their fathers worked together. She had been so worried, so terrified that the boat would catch a drift and not make it back to the marina by morning. It had taken a straight hour of her mother brushing her hair to calm her down, when she was worried sick herself, before she was stable enough to wait out the three and a half more hours it would take before the boat docked. She looked to Rayne, who was too bulky to fit between Mags and Finnick but somehow fit anyway, whose bright eyes were lowered away from her.

She wiped her eyes, scolding herself for the meltdown. Annie knew she shouldn't have acted like that, but she couldn't contain it. The weight of the Games was settling on her shoulders and was now more real than ever, though she would never approve of pairing herself with Finnick anyway. "I'm sorry," she said.

Finnick shook his head. "No." His hand now rested again on her kneecap. "Gossamer is out of line."

The woman gaped at him, and then glared. She must feel awful being put in her place by a handful of teenagers. Annie had entirely forgotten Finnick was still a teenager until after that thought; his age just didn't fit his face. "Great," she hid her face away from them, "now I'm that bad guy."

Annie was glad that the cab pulled into the Remake Center garage before anyone had a chance to respond to that comment – because it was clear everyone was going to agree with that. Finnick dropped Annie's hand to help Mags hobble into the Center, so she hung towards the back of the group to wait for Rayne. It was still early in the morning, so throughout the city and even there, things were sluggish. She seemed to be the only one entirely awake.

"Excited for the parade?" asked Rayne with a grin. Every year, the tributes from each district have to parade around the Capitol and attend a repetitive speech given by President Snow under the premise that they are now Capitol celebrities. Annie's eyes dulled. "Guess not…"

"What happen to the boy worried sick about his little sister?" she asked curiously.

"I figure that I am going to have to start thinking like a Career if I am going to make it back to her alive," he answered. It dawned on Annie that they weren't teammates, despite how the Capitol painted that picture. She and Rayne were enemies, and he could very well be planning to kill her off himself. "Focusing on training is my best bet right now."

Annie was disappointed that he was going to turn into the typically heartless Career everyone already thought he was. Thought she was, too. The Games made innocent kids murderers, so her new predicament was figuring a way around that. She decided then and there not to make a single ally.

The five of them stepped into the polished elevator tucked into the cement wall of the garage. It was a first for Annie, who had never been in an elevator before – she didn't even think they had one in District four, where all of the buildings were hardly ever taller than one story. She noted that the elevator was bigger than her family's bedroom at home, something she would tell Vance if she ever got the chance. Annie had seen a lot of things driving through the Capitol that her brother would take an interest in. She watched Gossamer punch the number 4 button and immediately the elevator began whizzing upward. Her stomach did summersaults.

When the elevator doors slid open again, Annie's eyes feasted upon six smiling, plastically altered faces and an open floor with just windows for walls. She blinked several times, eyes adjusting to the excessive amounts of light pouring into the room. There were small vanities set up around in stations, a table here, another there. A fire on a bed of stone and enclosed with gleaming glass was the center of the floor. The simplicity was beautiful.

"Annie," said Gossamer, stepping to the front of the group. Her face was plastered with a smile. "This is your prep team, Ophelia, Faye, and Charmant. They're going to spruce you up before you meet with your designer for later."

Annie stammered. The elevator had already closed behind her and Finnick had bid her a hurried goodbye just as the doors closed. Rayne was being taken across the floor by his prep team and Gossamer had disappeared altogether. She stood there, frozen, staring into the plastic faces of her prep team. Her initial thoughts were not to like or trust them.

"Oh, look at this hair!" exclaimed Faye with bright eyes, a woman who wore her unnaturally golden hair tied on the top of her head, as she bounced over to Annie. Her pudgy fingers pawed at the ends, as if she was scared to touch it. "I can actually do something with this!"

And so hell commenced. Annie was instructed lie on one of the tables, where she would remain for the next several irritatingly still hours. The three had to first wax, pluck, and strip her of every unneeded hair on her on her body – which was everything from her eyebrows down. It was nice, to a point, because it also took off the layer of skin wrecked by her reaction at the Reaping, but left her feeling raw. While she was good at staying still for long amounts of time, it was a helpful skill the times when the cramped boat was crowded; it soon came time where she was fidgeting around, anxious to be able to get on her feet again. By the time that the prep team was done with her, Annie didn't recognize herself. Her hair had been trimmed, her eyebrows reshaped, and her skin cleared of nearly all blemishes. The only one that remained was a birthmark that was hidden in her hairline.

"I think Rea will be pleased with this," said Charmant, standing back to look at Annie. She just wanted to laugh at him. At home, he would never even pass as a human being with his blue hair spiked back and pink tattoos swirling up his throat. The quizzical expression that crossed his face only made it funnier.

"Yeah," agreed Ophelia. She was the one who looked most normal, her hair appeared to be its natural shade of blonde and her eyes as well, but she was still covered head-to-toe in a lacey pattern of tattoos. "But we had something to work with this year. Remember that monstrous girl last year? The one we could hardly tell was a girl at all?"

They shook their heads in agreement, remembrance. Annie was silent, unsure of how to respond. Of course she felt awful for what happened, the girl had been sliced open by a couple of mutts and eaten from the inside out, but she also remembered how she was mocked in the district for being so manly. Charmant pressed a bright orange button on the side of the table and they fell back into an awkward silence.

The doors burst open. Annie expected someone old trying desperately to look young, or so plastically altered that they were grotesque, but Rea met none of those pictures. Rea strut over to them in her metallic high-heels, lips pursed in a manor Annie could only call frustration. Her hair was flaming pink and eyeliner rimmed her brown eyes with the same hue. Her eyes were sunken in the way only growing up in the districts would leave them; even the Capitol's surgeons couldn't remove the trace from her eyes. As soon as she was standing over Annie, her lips spread into a smile.

"Hello, Annie," she greeted in a tone that was nothing but nice. Even her voice was lacking the Capitol accent, making Annie wonder. She also appreciated that the woman didn't automatically treat her like a corpse. "I'm Rea, your stylist."

"Hi," Annie returned, voice sounding stronger than ever since the Reaping. Even Finnick hadn't brought her voice back so well. She shifted uncomfortably under the woman's gaze but fought the urge to cross her arms over her bare chest.

The pink haired woman ducked for a moment, only to reach under the table and pull out a plush robe from the shelf below. She tossed it onto Annie. "Put this on," she said. "I want to talk with you."

Annie did as she was told and wrapped the robe around her shoulders, keeping her arms wrapped around her. She sat upright, eyes spinning for a moment as colors flashed before her. Even for living in District Four, she was exceptionally hungry. Annie didn't even feel hungry anymore, her stomach had stopped growling at her hours ago, and she knew she should have eaten more when they were on the train but no one blamed her for being so nervous. She slid off of the table and followed Rea to the farthest corner away from anyone on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, Annie could see that Rayne was already meeting his stylist opposite of her.

"It's easy to see why you've caught Finnick Odair's eye," she breathed mischievously, eyes twinkling. Rea turned to stare out the window over the gleaming city, across the skyscrapers that still looked like something of fiction to Annie until the mountains shot out of the ground and created a wall around the Capitol. The innocent girl blushed intensely. "I saw pictures of your family when I was researching you and brushing up on district four, and I must say how striking the resemblance between you and your mother is."

"Thank you," murmured Annie absentmindedly. She was caught up in the whirling streets below, the swarming reporters crowding at the base of the Remake Center where tributes were still arriving. She wondered if they would be the one to kill her in the Arena.

Rea glanced at Annie, only to do a double take. The girl's eyes were so fixated on an unfocused point that the pink haired woman had to wonder if Annie was analyzing the particles swirling in the air. The designer was accustomed to dealing with the Careers that are nothing but excited to be in the Capitol, whereas this girl was taking it so much harder than anyone she had ever seen before. "So," she said, clapping her sculpted hands together, quick to change the subject. "My partner, Rayne's stylist Sinead, and I had this original idea of the traditional fish-scale dress but seeing as the way the cameras have been capturing you, we decided to take a different approach."

Annie couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed at hearing this. If she had one thing to look forward to about the Games, it would be the dresses the female tributes wore at all of the interviews and ceremonies – each one being expensive enough that if anyone came across that kind of money in District Four, they could afford to feed their families for a year and pay off a house several times over. Each was adorned with jewels, the size of which varying every year from flower petals to a newborn's fingernails, designed to look like she was covered with fish scales. The girl from two years ago was most memorable, being decorated in her slim-fitting dress covered in gold plates that flowed with the graceful movement of her body. Even if she agreed with Vance when it came to the importance of fashion in the Games, she could never bring herself to hate those dresses.

"What do you mean?" asked Annie, tearing herself away from the window. By the amount of photographers gathering around the pair of tributes, she assumed it was the twins from District Eleven. Her heart sickened for them.

"Gossamer has also insisted on the idea, as well," Rea noted. "Since it is your decided angle to play up your relationship with Finnick, Sinead and I think it might be a good idea to revisit the avant garde worn during that year."

She tried to remember what she was talking about, but Annie's memories of that particular Hunger Games was a jumble of Finnick spearing people through the chest with his trident and the smile that brightened his face every night when the pictures of the tributes he killed were broadcast in the sky above him. The brunette looked at Rea quizzically, asking for more of an explanation.

"Don't worry!" she exclaimed. "We are sure you'll love what we had in mind."

Rea took her measurements again, just to double check she assured, before rushing out of the room. A few hours later – hours spent wandering around the floor with nothing to do, unable to bring herself to talk to Rayne, and then made over again by her prep team. The more time Charmant, Ophelia, and Faye spent redesigning her, the less and less she saw her mother in her reflection. Her body is left bare before they begin the "real work". Annie's skin was dusted with shimmering paints from her torso and back to her mid-thighs, giving off the illusion of the waves in the bay. Her eyelids were stenciled with a careful design that looked like more scales. From there, Rea dressed her in an ill-fitting fishing net. The knots were tied tightly to cover her back, not showing any flesh at all. However, in the front, it was only fully covering her crotch and her breasts, showing off the shimmer.

Annie stared at the mirror in horror. The girl standing in the reflection hardly resembled her at all, there was nothing left of the girl clinging to District Four. Although, she could clearly remember now what Finnick wore. Nothing but knotted fishing net around his crotch. She shivered, blushing innocently at the thought.

She crowded into the elevator cautiously with nine other people – the prep teams, Sinead, Rea, and Rayne, who wore almost the same skimpy costume that Finnick had five years ago – anxiously twitching as she fought from covering herself up. Annie wanted nothing more than to be comforted by Finnick, who she now recognized as her only source of reassurance. She then dismissed that last thought. She didn't want to be seen by anyone wearing something as dreadfully _risqué _as this.

The elevator doors opened to the garage, which is now a giant stable. The tributes will be pulled in chariots by teams of four horses so well trained they don't need coaches at their sides, just as they are every year. Her heart burst when she saw who was standing eagerly in the garage waiting for them. Gossamer first, glittery eyes wide with anticipation, but it was Finnick that Annie was paying attention to.

The bronze haired, golden skinned, athletic mentor stood off to the side. His sea green eyes fell when he laid eyes on Annie, but she couldn't read his expression. Her heart was racing nervously and her cheeks were so hot, she didn't even want to know how red they were. She couldn't help it any longer; Annie folded her arms over her chest.

"Don't do that!" scolded Ophelia, who had decorated the teenager's body with the paint. "You'll smudge!"

Annie nearly broke down into a sob. She didn't look away from Finnick, however, who was popping a sugar cube into his mouth. She stepped out from the elevator just as the doors were closing. Her mentor was still inscrutable.

The prep teams and designers rushed off with Rayne, Mags, and Gossamer to instruct him on how to act on the chariot through the Capitol. Finnick and Annie lingered behind, simply staring at each other. The girl held her breath, hoping that his eyes wouldn't dare flicker away from her eyes.

Finnick glanced at his hand. "Do you want a sugar cube?" he offered, smiling, as he extended a sugar cube to her.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "No, thanks," she managed to choke out, grinning.

Annie took careful strides to the chariot and climbed up beside Rayne with help from Ophelia. Gossamer gave them instructions to hold their heads high and smile at the crowds in the Capitol streets. She had no desire to smile without Finnick being there, especially if these people were planning to steal her future by having her killed off for entertainment. The chariots for the first three districts were lined into place and then began to parade out onto the streets. Annie was sure that she would pass out before they reached the City Circle.

"I wouldn't worry if I were you," Rayne said, a false smile already plastered on his mouth. "They already love you out there."

Annie raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? Why?"

"Because he does."

She knew who he meant. Finnick Odair.

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><p><strong>I feel that the chapter was kind of slow... I'm so sorry. <strong>

**Constructive criticism is always welcome. Thank you so much for reading and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**Where Annie and Finnick wear themselves out.**

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><p>Three days of training commence the next day. Annie convinces herself to eat dinner the night after the parade, to really eat so she wouldn't give up on her first day of training, and she does so to the point where she is almost sick. The fine food in the Capitol feels so out of place in her stomach, but Annie reminds herself how much she needs it if she is going to please Finnick by impressing the Gamemakers on the final day.<p>

As she tucks herself into bed, she expects her sleep to be plagued with nightmares of the Games, or her family's faces as they watch her be plucked from the crowd by the Peacekeepers and brought up to the Reaping stage. Her subconscious mind brought her the images of one twelve year old girl being whipped by the Peacekeepers because she refused to be a tribute as she rested in the pile of expensive plush pillows. That was two years ago, if she recalled correctly, and the girl's sister volunteered for her when she was taken away kicking and screaming; they still punished her in the market square for what she did. But as Annie drifted off to sleep, she found that she was so exhausted that her slumber was free of nightmares.

Gossamer Swarm woke her up in the morning, clapping her hands as she paraded around Annie's quarters excitedly. The black haired woman threw open her curtains and allowed sunlight to pour in over the cocoon of blankets Annie had wrapped herself in. She helped drag the girl out of bed, dress her in a 'horrific' jumpsuit for training, and spruce up her hair and teeth, humming cheerfully all the while. She made Annie tag along with her to breakfast, to which they were early.

The places were set for thirteen of them, and it took Annie's groggy mind a moment to process that the extra places were for the prep teams and stylists. She sat beside Gossamer quietly as they waited for the others to arrive. In no time at all, Annie was wide awake and impatient. She normally woke up early back in District Four to see her brothers and father out the door as they head off to the marina.

A blonde boy and girl dressed in white tunics dished out eggs and bacon – a rare, insanely expensive meal back home – at every one of the places and disappeared silently. While Gossamer sat politely, leaving her food untouched, Annie's growling stomach persuaded her to eat immediately. She had finished her first helping of eggs before the doors to the dining room opened again. It was Rayne and Mags.

"Good morning, all!" greeted the elderly woman with a wide smile. Rayne stood beside his mentor, smiling as he rubbed sleep from his bright eyes. The monstrous Career yawned. "I'm glad to see that you're wide awake, Annie! At least one of you will be ready for training this morning." She reached up to pat Rayne's shoulder with her shriveled hand.

Annie smiled at the odd pair. She watched Rayne assist Mags in hobbling over to her place at the table; she seemed to have forgotten her cane that morning. "Good morning," she bid them quietly, placing her fork on her empty plate.

She was kept in her seat by Gossamer, who insisted that it was only polite that she wait for everyone else to be done before leaving the table. Annie wouldn't know a thing about this, for she and her mother ate alone and never nearly this much during the day, and with there always being more chores that needed doing, the faster they finished, the better. She tried to be patient as Rayne and Mags ate, and then as the prep teams arrived and they ate, and then Rea and Sinead. Everyone around the table was chirping to one another, mostly little insignificant comments, but it made for a light atmosphere. Annie sat back in her chair and smiled, waiting for her escort's permission to leave. Only it wouldn't come until Finnick had finished, and he wasn't even there yet.

"Where is Finnick?" she asked Gossamer quietly. The woman sat, smiling at nothing, not bothering to respond for quite some time. Annie repeated herself. "Where's Finnick?"

Gossamer stammered through incomplete sentences, glittery eyes darting around the room.

"He had a rough night sleeping," Mags answered, waving in Gossamer's direction to hush her. "He won't be down until it's time to see you off to the gym."

Gossamer snorted, throwing her head back. Her hair fell over her hitching shoulders, her mouth was open in laughter but no sound was coming out.

Annie apologized for asking under her breath. Gossamer's reaction was rather strange, and she felt like it was because of her, because she had asked a stupid question. She stared down into her lap for the remainder of the meal, hiding her face. Why was that such an awful question?

The next half hour or so was painfully slow, or so it felt to Annie. While the prep teams cleared out of the private dining room, Rea and Sinead took their sweet time to pick through their breakfasts, meaning that Gossamer and Annie remained seated to wait for them. Mags eventually decided that it was taking too long and left, where she was assisted to her room by Rayne. He returned, though, reassuring Annie that she had a friend in him, and sat with her so she wasn't left alone with Gossamer. She felt like she should talk to him since he stayed just to make her feel comfortable, but words failed her. Finally, she gave up on manners and left the dining room with Rayne.

They passed Finnick's room and Annie hesitated, staring distantly at her mentor's door. She had thought that she and Rayne were the only ones who had sleep-depriving stress to deal with, so she felt terribly guilty to hear that the Games were taking a toll on Finnick, too…

"Aren't you coming?" asked Rayne, looking back at her, bright eyes flashing. "We've got another half hour to spend before we need to report to the gym."

"Um, I think I should check on Finnick…" Annie trailed off, realizing how stupid that must sound to Rayne. A puzzled expression crosses his features and she can see the questions spinning through his mind: who does this girl think she is? Why does she think she needs to be the one to check on him? She's just a kid… She shook her head subtly and faced the door. "I'll be there in a minute, okay?"

"Alright," said Rayne, who had already begun off down the hallway towards their rooms. Gossamer had felt it so appropriate to place Annie and Rayne in rooms next door to each other, when really it made more sense to put Annie and Finnick together given the strategy they had formulated for her. However, Finnick's room was at the end of the hallway, and a bathroom separated him from the next closest bedroom.

Annie tapped the door lightly with her knuckles. "Finnick?" she asked through the heavy wood. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," he groaned throatily somewhere from within the chamber. His voiced was so harsh; it hurt her throat to listen to him talk like that.

"Can…can I come in?" she asked, stuttering nervously. The whole situation was just awkward, no matter how she looked at it, and she was sure her parents would disapprove of it – something that was eating at her. She hated knowing that they would be ashamed of this strategy. "I heard that you weren't feeling well so I came to check on you."

"Sure, lovely," Finnick sighed.

Annie pushed the door in and slowly stepped inside, watching the stream of light from the hallway flood the dark bedroom. Finnick was hidden on his bed, what with the pillows and sheets being strewn about. She had to move several pillows away from his face to get a decent look at him. He lie with his face pressed into the mattress, bare-chested, limbs splayed out across the bed. It was a way only men could sprawl, and Annie found it attractive.

One sea green eye opened and looked up at her. His lips spread into a faint smile. "Good morning, sweetheart," he whispered, raising his head ever so slightly off of the mattress.

She glanced around the room. "You must have had a really rough night sleeping…" she muttered, placing a hand over his cheek without thinking. It reminded her of Fletcher when his sweetheart was reaped, he didn't sleep for weeks and threw pillows around the room at night and ripped his comforter out of frustration. Annie looked at him with half-lidded eyes.

He sighed sadly and rested his face against the mattress again. "Yeah," Finnick murmured into the sheets. After a moment of perfect silence, of Annie just listening to her mentor breathe, Finnick rolled over onto his back and stared up at her. His bronze hair was disheveled and his eyes were bloodshot, something she only saw looking at him straight-on. "Ready for training today?" His fingers brushed the sleeve of her jacket.

"Sure," she lied. Annie couldn't bring herself away from the pain settled into Finnick's face; his eyes were hollow with misery in the way only people from the districts knew. She held his hand. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, lovely," he assured hoarsely. Annie noted that was the second time he called her that. "I just didn't get much sleep." Finnick's hand moved from hers to her wrist and yanked her forward. Startled, Annie toppled over and landed pressed against her mentor. She blushed madly. His hand held her head over his chest, and her ear was just in the right spot to listen to his heartbeat. She couldn't help but smile.

Annie didn't bother with telling herself how wrong the whole thing was. She just smiled and lay still, happily listening to his heartbeat. His strong hands rested on her lower back, just above her tailbone. That was the happiest that she had been in days, even since before the Reaping. If she wasn't being forced to, she would never move again.

Somehow, her subconscious mind brought her images of him poising the trident above his head in the Arena five years ago, and she didn't even care. Being wrapped in his arms was contradicting her silly fear.

They must have been pressed against each other, still, for quite some time. "I don't want to move," whispered Finnick, lips seductively pressed to her hair. "But you need to get down to the gym."

As much as she wanted to, Annie didn't groan or whine or complain. His arms slipped from her back and she sat upright, moving off of him. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to…"

"Didn't mean to what?" he asked, sitting up. Finnick Odair was a broken man. Annie could see it in the way his empty hands twitched, restrained from reaching for hers, and the way his sea green eyes gaze longingly into what Annie feels is the depths of her soul. "Shouldn't we be getting to training?"

She nodded, a little too eagerly.

* * *

><p>There were four of them that rode the elevator down to the gymnasium below the Training Center. Rayne and Annie stepped out to find that almost all of the other tributes were waiting there, standing in a tense circle. Finnick pins her district number on her and pats Annie's shoulders before seeing her off. She and Rayne step into the circle, given more than enough space by the other tributes because everyone apparently feared Careers. Rayne grinned. Annie ignored him and scanned the center, various stations spread out with weapons she didn't have names for and there were obstacle courses lining the walls. Her heart skipped a beat, it was intimidating beyond belief.<p>

The other tributes were pathetically small, aside from the other Careers that stuck out like a sore thumb. Annie shrank behind Rayne as she looked over the barbaric-looking tributes; the two males from the other Career districts are even bigger than Rayne with at least one-hundred-fifty pounds on her, there was an athletic girl from District One no more than twelve despite being Annie's height, and the female from Two was twice her own size. Other than them, the rest of the tributes were ill-fed and puny. Bones could be seen jutting from their skin. Their eyes were bulging from their heads. Annie's heart twisted itself into knots as she examined them, sick with empathy. She had at least had a meal every day of her life; she doubted they ate decently more than once a week. Then there were the twins from Eleven. Even without seeing their numbers, they looked so much alike. Same dark hair, same sad eyes.

The only thing that kept Annie from puking was knowing that she would be loathed by her fellow tributes in the Arena for showing weakness and picked off at the Cornucopia, and that somewhere, Finnick is watching her.

Atala, a tall and clearly athletic woman, introduced them to the gymnasium once all of the tributes had arrived. She explained there were experts at each station to supervise and coach them when needed, that there was an unlimited amount of time to spend at each station, so on and so forth. About halfway through the woman's speech, Annie began to drone it out, morphing her voice into a buzzing in the back of her mind. She was watching the excited Careers already teaming up, Rayne included, and the other tributes shiver nervously. Her attention was then drawn out further to the actual gym. There was no swimming pool, but there was a knot-tying station. Her gaze lightened a little.

Atala dismisses the tributes and Annie isn't surprised to see five Careers dashing towards the stations with the deadliest-looking weapons. She may not fit in at all with them, but she is not a sniveling child like the rest of the tributes – despite feeling like one. Annie drowns herself in an aura of false confidence and struts over to the knot-tying station, where she cheerfully greets the coach there. It was just like Gossamer had instructed her, _never show weakness, don't act like a little girl unless you're being wooed by Finnick for the cameras._

"Hi," said Annie, sitting down cross-legged on the mat. Cheerfulness still lingered within her from her time spent with Finnick that morning, the ghost of his touch was still faint on her skin. Her delight was sincere.

"You must already know what you're doing to come here first," says the coach at the station, a woman without a single touch of the Capitol about her. Her blue eyes are bright, excited that someone is at her station. Annie finds satisfaction knowing the woman is happy to see her.

Once she is handed a few lengthy strips of rope, she loses herself in something she has taken for granted for two long. Annie has spent her childhood swimming off of the docks with Vance, impatiently waiting for their father and brothers to return home, and twisting ropes into intricate knots which then somehow became fishing nets sturdier than anything bought in the market. Her quick fingers were pulling and tying and stringing together a miniature sized fishing net. Annie smiled down as she worked; it brought the scent of salt water to her nose. She was good at this, this made her happy, it was like home. Annie could also create a hook out of nearly anything, but they were never as good as Vance's and never lasted more than a few catches off the end of her family's dock.

Annie sat on the mat for so long without moving that she began squirming in the midst of the session, to loosen up her muscles. The instructor at the station watched her, impressed, until Annie ran out of things to show her. Then she begins to learn how to tie nooses, something that could come in handy in the Games she is told, and other sorts of traps. It took several attempts before anything Annie makes turned out right, but once her fingers learned the repetitious patterns to create the traps, she could create something as if she had spent years working towards it.

"You're District Four?" a man asked as he sat down beside her. His grey eyes flashed as he gazed at her. Annie is taken back when she sees the number 12 pinned to him, for he looked much older than eighteen and therefore not eligible as a tribute. She nodded and returned her attention to the half-finished noose in her hands. "You're not like them." He nodded towards the group of Careers swinging swords around at each other.

She shrugged. "Thank you?"

"That's what I'd say," he says, taking a few ropes into his hands. Annie stops what she is doing to watch his skills, to see if he knows what he is doing. When he forms a noose faster than she did on her first attempt, she looked away and desperately tried to finish her own. "I'm Hollis Catch." He strung the noose around his wrist and extended his hand to her.

Annie didn't look up at him and ignored his gesture. She, instead, watched her own slim fingers tie a noose together. "I'm Annie Cresta."

"I know who you are," admits Hollis. "We all do. You're the girl having a fling with her mentor."

Annie caught a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors nailed to the gymnasium walls as he said that. She was not blushing as nearly as dark as she thought she was. Her reflection was merely a sixteen-year-old girl, tangled dark locks of hair falling to her shoulders and a pink dusting sprinkled onto her cheeks. "Yeah," she confirms, hearing Gossamer praise her in her head.

He is very forward, unlike most of the other tributes, which was surprising on its own account. The surprises didn't cease there; after spending nearly an hour creating traps and nets with him, he didn't mention any alliances once like Annie expected him to. Instead, they talked, like normal human beings without the weight of the Games crushing their shoulders. Exchanges like "I have five older brothers" and responses like "I would love to have siblings! I'm an only child" were the type of thing that were passed between them. Annie felt lucky for today; she didn't really feel like a tribute at all.

The first day of training whirled by, ending quicker than Annie imagined it would. She had spent the entire time at one station, just tying knots. What was she going to tell Gossamer and Finnick? That she spent the day practicing something she was already good at just because it reminded her of home? That she was talking with a boy the size of a Career from District Twelve and no, she didn't want him as an ally? She shook her head, disappointed in herself as she walked away from the station. Annie gave a little wave to the instructor as she left.

Annie stepped into the elevator with Rayne; they were the last to leave the gymnasium. "I was trying to keep tabs on you," informed Rayne. "Please don't tell me that you spent the entire day at one station."

"If you were keeping tabs on me, wouldn't you know?" she replied glibly. "But, yeah, I was tying knots all day."

"They think you're insane," he continued as he stared blankly ahead at the glossy elevator doors. She knew who he was talking about, the Careers. "Especially Mira. She called you mad on several occasions, not teaming up with us, tying-knots, that thousand-mile stare of yours, talking to the boy from Twelve…"

Annie tapped her foot impatiently. It wasn't that she cared what the Careers thought of her; it was that she cared because Rayne was spinning his story to make it sound like the end of the world. "Which one is she?" asked Annie, not willing to give him the satisfaction of succeeding in mind games since that sounded like what he was trying to do.

"Twelve-year-old from One."

Only twelve and she was probably already formulating a plan to kill her. Annie sighed, trying not to think about it. The elevator stopped at the fourth level and opened. Both mentors and Gossamer were standing there, waiting for them to return. Mags and Finnick were both leaning against the wall, making Annie think that they had been waiting around for a long time, whereas Gossamer gave them little room to even step out of the elevator. She was beaming.

"How did it go?" the escort demanded, smile unfazed on her lips. She grabbed their wrists and yanked them from the elevator. "I just know you both did so well. No competition at all, right? What did I tell you?"

While the group retreated to the private dining room, Rayne had no trouble telling about his day in training. He, apparently, exceled at hand-to-hand and could take the instructor down at the wrestling station. Annie gulped, after listening to him she had all the more reason to fear him. They were all comfortably settled into the dining room before anyone asked her how her day was, a question she had been dreading since the elevator.

"And, Annie?" asked Gossamer, turning towards her at the table. Under the warm light of the chandelier, the woman's hair looked blue rather than black. "How do you think you did?"

She was prepared to give as many one-word answers as necessary so she wouldn't have to go into detail. However, she was also searching for Finnick's approval and that made it more difficult to pull off. "Alright," Annie answered. She could at least say that she was good at what she did.

"What'd you do?" asked Finnick.

"Um…" Annie shook the notion of lying from her mind. "I tied knots."

"Knots?" echoed Gossamer, seemingly in disbelief.

Annie's eyes darted to Finnick, who was nodding his head in understanding, and then back to her lap. "Like traps and nets and nooses," she explained.

"Hm." Gossamer had probably never had a wimpy little girl like her for a tribute, Annie figured. But she couldn't tell her that she was family oriented, not now, not when she is practically sentenced to die. "I guess that could be useful."

"More so than you would think," said Finnick. He smiled at Annie – a genuine smile, not the flirtatious, made-her-want-to-melt sort of smile that he used on all of the girls in the Capitol – to let her know that he was on her side. He wrapped her under his arm, a space in which she fit like the last puzzle piece.

"Oh, look at you two, practicing for the cameras," cooed Gossamer under her breath, eyes gleaming. Annie's heart sank the mere moment that she dared to believe that. "So, then, I assume you weren't buddy-buddy with the rest of the Careers?"

The girl shook her head. "I hardly even looked at them."

The black haired woman sighed, eyes flashing with disappointment. "Did you meet anyone worth being allies with?" she asked, speaking to the floor.

"I talked with the boy from Twelve for a while, but he isn't worth being allies with," said Annie, lying through her teeth. She felt Hollis was more than worthy as an ally, worth more than her for a friend in the Arena, but she just didn't want to have to worry about it narrowing down. That's why she didn't want allies; the threat of having to kill another was too much. "I don't want allies, anyway."

"You'll never make it out alive," sighed Mags sadly. At least she was being honest.

Annie's breathing had quickened. She was biting her lip nervously, and there was warmth slicked across her skin that she couldn't tell whether it was blood or saliva. Finnick's fingers trailed down her arm, wrapping her closer to his body. Images of being pulled on top of him flashed through her mind. Annie sighed. She had never felt so strangely comforted in her life. It wasn't just a strategy to her anymore. Then she began to wonder if it ever had been…

Finnick hung his head. "Let's just get going," he whispered to her. "I think it'd be best if it were just the two of us to talk for a while. I think we've both got tough nights ahead of us."

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading! I appreciate it. This wasn't my favorite chapter, but I am happier with it than I was with chapter 3. Let me know what you thought!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Where too much happens.**

* * *

><p>The two tributes kept the door connecting their rooms open, just in case they needed one another during the night. Alone, Rayne was much more like an actual human being rather than Career and Annie wished he would stay that way. The pair had pulled chairs over from across the room to sit at Annie's window, watching the glowing skyline of the towering Capitol – the initial amazement that illuminated their eyes when they first saw the city had been reawakened. For a long time, they sat in silence, but Rayne broke that sense of comfort.<p>

"How do you think they're doing?" he asked, eyes stretching across the horizon. Annie had to wonder if he were staring beyond the mountains, as if he knew that was the direction in which District Four lie. It brought images of a makeshift family consisting of hers and his sister, tortured as they watched the ones they loved fight to the death, out of their reach of protection to Annie's weak mind. She cringed. "I hope everything is alright…"

"I am sure they're fine." Annie, in a sense had become her mother, a woman who was always optimistic and could be counted on to lift other's spirits even if she felt like crumbling into the dust. It was just easier that way, it was better than drowning in an ocean of worry and panic and anxiety. She was lying to herself, but she didn't think that Rayne picked up on that.

"What do you think that the Arena is going to be like?" Rayne mused, mostly to himself, lost in the streets of the Capitol. Annie could watch the street below now that the photographers and reporters had packed up and left. She drowned out his question with her own curiosity, knowing that fear would take the best of her. "I think the Gamemakers are planning something good, especially after the let down last year."

Last year the tributes were sent to a mountain in the north where they were expected to fend for themselves without any means of warmth aside the clothes they were sent into the Arena wearing. Most of them suffered through uneventful, bloodless deaths; the Capitol found no amusement in watching tributes freeze to death in their sleep. Annie was lucky that last year's summer was unbearably hot, because she nearly froze to death in her nightmares every night as well and the heat was the perfect way to bring her back to reality. It was then that she caught herself thinking about the Games and quickly shook her head, as if clearing her mind.

"Annie, you know...if you don't treat it like a death sentence, it won't be like one," he muttered, leaning forward to rest his head on the glass.

She couldn't believe that was his choice of words. It made it sound as if she had a measly chance at returning home. However, she saw no point in arguing with him. "I know I can't keep dwelling on District Four," Annie whispered, eyes catching on a purple light that blinked on a distant rooftop.

"How do you feel about training with me tomorrow?" he asked, eyes brightening. Rayne wore an expression that eerily reminded Annie of her brothers, whenever they were trying to bring her around to something new, and it comforted her strangely. While Annie had to admit to warming up to her fellow district tribute, she was still frightened by the other Careers. His eyes smiled while his lips did not.

Annie shook her head. A moment later she found herself wondering if she had seemed too childish by doing so and felt the need to redeem herself by saying something. "No, thank you." It didn't help much, but her mother would be proud of her manners.

This seemed to disappoint him for his eyes dulled. "Don't you think it would benefit you to do something besides show off to the instructor how you've grown up tying knots more complicated than she planned to teach you?" asked Rayne. "I don't want you to go into the Arena unprepared."

Annie blinked. "I'll work on something else, I promise," she said, keeping to herself the part about refusing to train with the Careers. Watching the purple light flash, so easily amused, it began to dawn on Annie that she wasn't the only one making connections between her brothers and her partner. Rayne may be planning to win the Games, but he saw some of his sister in her. That's why he was so reassuring. "Did you ever tell me your sister's name?"

"Calypso," he said. She recognized the name. Her family kept an old, tattered story book on the shelf above their hearth, beside wedding photos and birth certificates. Annie's mother always told her that it was from a hundred years before the Dark Days, but she never believed her, though the pages did seem to crumble when they were touched. When she was a girl, she used to curl up beside her mother in bed as the woman read her stories from that book – she was drawn to the mythical creatures and alluring characters. There was a story, not her favorite though she did remember it in great detail, of a woman named Calypso who detained sailors on her island for one reason or another. Whenever the story was read to her, Annie had always imagined bright blues and neon greens that gleamed as they were reflected in the woman's eyes. It seemed unfitting for a little girl, but Annie hoped she would grow into it. "Her name is Calypso."

A moment of silence passed between them. Annie was content with her thoughts, now that she was gaining some control over them; she had managed to stay calm now at the mere remembrance of Finnick's touch. The purple light that had captured her attention had stopped.

"You're going to train with me tomorrow," Rayne decided. To be entirely honest, Annie was scared to argue with him, he was so forceful… "And you are going to act like a Career. I don't want them to kill you off right away because they think you've ditched them."

After a sleep sprinkled with nightmares and an awkward breakfast to which she was forced to smile and look pretty at – Gossamer had fetched a camera from a photography studio and insisted on taking as many pictures as she could, to the point where it was almost as bad as the reporters – Rayne kept true to his word and Annie was stuck at his side through training. She followed him and the other Careers around the stations quietly, attempting to improve her skills after they had worn themselves out. She didn't want to have to fight any of them; even the twelve-year-old was bigger than she was. It was sickening to listen to the five of them talk about strategizing for the Arena, as if they could all return home, and that not a single one seemed to be weighed down by the sorrow of being ripped from their families. Pascal and Mira were from One, both having trained illegally for the Games their entire lives, and made a point of trying to welcome Annie into the Career pack, though it wasn't very effective and they gave up. Iem and Maroon from Two took a different approach towards Annie, they were hostile and standoffish. Rayne tried to keep Annie away from them and speak over their nasty comments about her through training, but it wasn't always easy to mask.

At one point during the day in the gym, when Annie was standing awkwardly at the instructor's side on the wrestling mat, she caught Hollis' eye. He stood across the large hall at the edible plants station, clearly unimpressed with her choice of company for the day. She tried to shrug, eyes flashing as they tried to express that it wasn't her fault, but he returned to his training with two other girls that kneeled beside him.

"What'd you think of that?" asked Rayne as they stepped into the elevator. The doors closed and they began shooting up towards the fourth floor. He was grinning excitedly, as if she was supposed to be impressed with the Careers.

"It was terrifying," whispered the fragile girl, staring blankly at the glossy elevator doors. Honesty is the best policy, right?

"Why would you say that?" He wasn't looking her down anymore, which took some of the weight off of her shoulders. Annie felt that she could breathe now. "You were working harder today than you were yesterday."

"With the group of people I know will be responsible for my death." Along with that, it went without saying that it was also the group of people that would further break her parents' hearts and tear her brothers apart. The frazzled girl shivered.

The doors glided open. Annie and Rayne were not greeted by a welcoming party today, which was a relief since she had been expecting the blinding flash of the camera Gossamer had been carrying around. The pair cleared half of the floor before finding anyone – they seemed to have called a meeting in the dining room and not noticed the floor-wide bell that alerted them of the elevator. Annie could hear her prep team's squeals from halfway down the hall.

"This is going to be so much fun!" exclaimed Faye in a childishly shrill voice. She was clapping her hands together happily.

"I haven't worked on a nude-shoot since we partnered with Finnick's team!" chipped Charmant, tapping his false nails on the glass table excitedly.

Confusion swept through Annie's mind. Rayne entered the room first, and she struggled to stand on her tiptoes to see over his broad shoulder. Everyone's eyes seemed to look past the monstrous Career and stare at her. Annie shrunk back. She hated that they were talking about her.

"Nude?" she echoed, the word rolling around in her mouth before it slipped from her tongue.

"Annie, come sit!" said Gossamer, snapping a photograph of her reaction. The woman patted the chair between her and Finnick.

As her vision returned to her, Annie carefully slipped by Rayne and into the chair between the two. Her heart was pattering lightly in her ears, growing stronger with every beat. "What is going on?" she asked Finnick.

"Gossamer thinks she has the perfect idea to win over the audience in the Capitol," answered her mentor, entwining their hands on the table. His warmth enveloped her and she had to hide a smile. "A photo shoot to play up our romance and leak it to the tabloids. Also helps practice being in love before video cameras are following you everywhere."

"A…nude photo shoot?" clarified Annie with raised eyebrows. Her green eyes flashed. Wheels in her head were cranking as she tried to force herself to think through the scenario. She was suddenly nauseous.

"Isn't it brilliant?" Gossamer beamed, glittery eyes sparkling. "I thought of it all myself. It's even clear to slip under the noses' of those pesky Gamemakers!"

"As in…Finnick…naked?" She was hoping this was the case, since it was safe to bet every coin she had to her name – which wasn't many, but that's beside the point – that Finnick had done it before. The Capitol loved him in all the wrong ways.

Gossamer rolled her eyes. There were stifled chuckles masked behind hands that rippled around the end of the table where the prep teams sat. Rea was shaking her head sadly. Annie's heart bolted into her throat when she felt Finnick's fingers stroke her stringy hair. It was not what Gossamer meant at all. She glanced around the room, eyes flickering unsteadily. Her gaze finally rested on Finnick, who was the most embarrassed she had ever seen him.

"As in both of you," Rea corrected finally, when Gossamer's mouth hung open and her words failed her. "We've been preparing for it since you left this morning."

Finnick squeezed her hand. "It'll be easy," he whispers. "I promise. I've done dozens."

Annie shook her head. "No," she said. "No, no, no, no, no, no."

It took several minutes of calming and shushing her before the meeting could continue. Annie finally relaxed under Finnick's fingertips; he knew just how to run them across the skin of her forearm and up an invisible trail to her jawline. It was just unbelievable, he was too perfect.

Despite her further protests, Annie was yanked down the corridors to the exquisite bathroom tucked within her bedroom by her prep team. Once the shoot was firmly set in stone and there was no use in arguing with insane Gossamer, all Annie could do was hope that the pictures were never aired on television or even mentioned outside of the Capitol. She wanted District Four to be spared. Her family would hate her if they knew this was going on. The prep team stripped her down and threw her into a washtub filled with vile goo that smelled of faux salt water, as if the Capitol was trying to bring tints of home back into her life in the cruelest possibly way. She was suffering through a very trying day, and Annie had no will to fight when the team began to scrub and wax her down. Soon, she was almost an entirely new person, life had been brought back to her hair and her dingy skin revived. Ophelia dusted her skin with golden powder that gave the illusion of spending the summer at the docks – she even gave Annie's cheeks the perfect tinge of sunburn – while Faye and Charmant styled her hair and highlighted her best facial features with touches of make-up. An hour later, she was tossed out of the room wearing nothing but a plush robe.

It was against the Gamemakers' rules to bring in outsiders to the Training Center, so Gossamer the amateur and Rea with little experience but proper photography training were left to take the pictures. Annie was still uncomfortable with her prep team seeing her nude, let alone Gossamer and Rea, and the fact that it would forever be on a photograph was haunting. Finnick was a factor she refused to think about.

"The lights are going to make it seem more realistic!" Rea shouted, losing her composure for the first time in front of Annie. She stomped her foot for emphasis. "It can't seem totally staged! Even the Capitol would pick up on it."

"Maybe there's some way we could bring in professional lighting, though," Gossamer pondered, ignoring her partner's outburst. The tiny woman gazed out the bedroom window, tapping her pointy-toed shoes in thought. "I think making the pictures look better is worth it looking a little staged. Oh! Annie, dear!"

Annie peered into the room around the doorframe. The bed sheets were tousled and there were clothes, supposedly hers and supposedly Finnick's, piled on the floor at the foot of the bed. She shook her head at the ridiculousness of it all. Annie adjusted her robe, wrapping it tighter around her slim frame, as she stepped into the room. Words couldn't convey the intensity of her embarrassment, but her blush was hidden by her make-up.

"You should be so excited!" gushed the woman in her derisory Capitol accent. It stung Annie's ears. "This is going to get you so many sponsors it isn't even funny!" She forced herself to laugh.

"Finnick is on his way," Rea informed her, setting and resetting the twisted comforter on the bed as if it mattered how untidy the room looked. Annie didn't understand their motives, but she didn't bother with asking. She just stood and watched as the woman arranged everything in the room just so before Finnick arrived.

"Hello, lovely," he said as he dipped into her neck, placing a string of kisses along her skin. It was astounding how quickly he could transform into this entirely different person that the Capitol molded and shaped him to be. Finnick stepped around her and immediately Annie hid her eyes in the collar of her robe. He was wearing nothing but the smile on his face.

"Oi," remarked Gossamer, displeased with Annie's embarrassment. As the girl gathered her courage to glance up, she saw the black haired woman's eyes darting up and down Finnick.

Finnick turned to Annie, slightly wetting his lips with his tongue. She had a heart wrenching feeling that he used that on girls in the Capitol clinging to the desperate idea that they will stay in his favor. _District Four_, she reminded herself, _District Four._

The first thing she was instructed to do was disrobe. Annie's heart skipped a beat as she dared to look Gossamer in the eye and defy her. It was eventually Finnick whispering in her ear seductively that coaxed her into dropping the robe – well, he really distracted her by whispering and then slipped his fingers into her sleeves before pushing it off of her shoulders. The push fabric drooped, but Annie thankfully remained concealed, and Gossamer screamed for Rea to begin snapping photos. Apparently, Finnick's arms were wrapped around her in just the right position.

"This is for your sponsors," promised Finnick under his breath as he gripped her waist. Annie was shocked as he hoisted her above his head; their foreheads pressed together, lips curled into smiles. Several blinding flashes went off and then she was placed on the bed. "This is for getting you out of the Arena alive." He crawled on top of her, keeping a good distance above her. Finnick was amused by her heightened breathing and smirked. Annie desperately closed her eyes, uncomfortable and nervous. The camera flashed. "This is for you seeing your brothers again." His head ducked and his lips were shamelessly placed on her breast. Flash.

Annie couldn't have been happier when it was over. She felt like crying, but knew that if she did, Gossamer would only turn it into another photo shoot and didn't want to even think what the twisted theme would be this time. Instead of breaking down, she draped her robe loosely over her shoulder and retreated to her own bedroom down the hallway. Dirtiness and disgust with herself had seeped through to her bones and even settled like a greasy layer on her skin. She turned on the shower before locking herself in the bathroom. Once the rushing water was pouring like rain over her, Annie allowed herself to cry.

"The Games are going to drive me mad," she proclaimed, hanging her head. Dripping wet hair fell around her face, creating a watery curtain. There was more that was put into being a tribute than she had ever expected. Honestly, little Annie from District Four who had been kept naïve by her protective brothers had thought that she would arrive in the Capitol, train, appear on mandatory televised interviews like all of the tributes did every year and then die in the Arena. She could clear her mind enough to think even those simple things through.

She had to arrive in the city that organized her death just because they needed entertainment. She spent her days training with other teenagers that would either be planning to kill her or that expected her to kill them. She appeared on mandatory televised interviews to remind her family that she was suffering and there was nothing they could do to help her. And among all of that, she had to go around and pretend to be in love with the Capitol's resident _whore_.

Annie screamed in both frustration and in anger at herself. Water flooded her mouth and she quickly spit it at the drain. The shriek echoed off of the tiled walls and shocked her ears as it was thrown back at her. The word had _not _just crossed her mind. She liked Finnick, she trusted him, she didn't fear his hands for holding the trident. The hands that had been all over her… She owed him more than she could ever repay, she couldn't just think he was a whore!

Her mind raced and heart thundered in her chest. Annie began off simply as she tried to keep from getting herself too worked up. Salt water. Knots. Docks. Houses at the bay. Brothers. Boats. Fish. Market square. Fish hooks. Parents. Sand. Happy things. Annie needed to focus on happy things.

When the door creaked on its hinges and Annie jumped, her heart expected it to be Finnick walking into the bathroom. Instead, it was Ophelia, coming to collect bottles of soaps and hair brushes that she had left on the counter. Her eyes were glued to her things, giving Annie as much privacy as the situation would allow. The girl turned away from the woman, towards the rushing water, and closed her eyes.

"Can't seem to get it off, huh?" asked Ophelia, hidden behind the bathroom door. She had gathered her numerous belongings and was just about to steal away from the room, leaving Annie alone again.

"No," she answered quietly, voice drowned out by the beating rain. She was losing her voice, it hardly escaped her throat, and she couldn't figure out why. Annie glanced over her shoulder, just checking to see that the woman wasn't looking at her.

Ophelia was gone from the washroom without another word. Annie thought the exchange was odd and unnecessary, though she didn't call after her. She ran her fingers through her hair several times, slicking it back away from her face, and rinsing the Capitol soaps from it before turning the water off. She stood in the wide shower stall for a moment, breathing in the last of the humid air as it faded away through vents in the ceiling. Exhaustion in her muscles from training became evident the longer she was still. The day had left her weary and on-edge.

Annie cloaked herself with all of the towels in the bathroom before daring to step out – one wrapped around her head to wring out her hair, one around her torso that overlapped the one draped around her waist, and even a towel that sat on her shoulders and hid her neck like an oversized scarf. She did her best to manage putting on all of her nightclothes before removing any of the towels, but she only got as far as her undergarments. Beyond that point, she darted around the room, searching through drawers for something small enough to fit her frame. It was a tad bit insulting that the room had been filled with oversized clothes, probably because a Career girl twice her size was expected to be staying there. Once Annie was warmly dressed in saggy pajama pants and two sweaters, she crawled under the sheets of her bed and tucked herself in.

It was an unreal thought that she stashed at the very back of her mind that people were actually going to see the pictures of her taken earlier. Annie was able to drift in and out of sleep comfortably without intense nightmares for several hours before Gossamer burst into her room, nearly breaking down the door in the process.

"They're all over the Capitol papers!" she shrieked in delight, jumping up and down excitedly. Her hair was an unmoved sheet that hung from her head. Annie didn't think that it was possible to strike the smile from Gossamer's lips.

Tired, it took her a few thoughts to process through what was going on. The pictures. Annie gasped, bolting upright in bed, throwing the comforter off of her. The outer sweater she had dressed herself in before settling in for the night was twisted around her and needed tending to since it pulled in all of the wrong ways, but Annie was in too much shock to care. Someone, some perverted Capitol freak was looking at those pictures right now, somewhere, somewhere out of her reach and there was no way to snatch them back. She could feel her heartbeat speeding up. Annie drummed her hands against her lap in panic, fingers searching for Finnick's grasp. They were all going to hate her and there was no way the Gamemakers would allow her any sponsors.

Annie leapt from her bed and ducked out of the room past Gossamer, acting without thinking. Her legs kicked into a sprint as she dashed down the hallway, spinning around the corner as she glanced through open doors looking for Finnick. She had never run to fast in her life, never felt so threatened. Her mentor sat in the dining room under a dimmed chandelier, the pages of a glossy Capitol magazine open across the table before him. Annie crashed into him, burying her face against his chest.

"Gossamer's phone has been ringing off of the hook all night," he whispered calmly, stroking her hair. It was knotted and frizzy from being slept upon while still wet, but Finnick didn't snag his fingers in it once. His heartbeat relaxed her enough to hear him out. "So far, this has gotten you three official sponsors for the Games, along with numerous other donations."

"You're kidding me!" she spat. "This is what they're all looking for from me? I can't do this! I can't! I can't! I can't!"

"It's honestly not as bad as you are imagining it," Finnick assured her, dropping his hand from her hair to the arch in her lower back. His fingers traced her spine lightly. "There were only two photos printed and a small caption. That's all."

Annie looked up at him; his gentle sea green gaze flooded her mind and helped her believe he was telling the truth. She shifted, crawling off of him, to lean over the table. She examined the pictures in the tabloid, which brought light to her eyes and were something entirely different from what she imagined was happening yesterday. The first, much larger picture printed at the top of the page, was of her and Finnick with their foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, smiling, a blush dusting her cheeks. Light had flooded from the windows behind them and illuminated them, reflecting off of their skin like the sun off of the waves in District Four. Happy. She looked positively happy. The second was smaller, but just as powerful as the first, and was of the pair at the dining room table from the morning before the shoot. Finnick held Annie's hand on the table, as he did every morning, as she leaned over to talk to someone out of the frame. It was when Gossamer was sneaking pictures with her camera for no good reason, but Annie liked it better than the first. The whole thing seemed silly now, that she had worried over nothing because of all of the things they photographed, _these _were the ones they chose. She didn't have to worry at all.

Looking over the magazine page again, Annie noticed the strip separating the photographs that held the caption. It read: "'The Hunger Games are taking what's mine. She's the thing that makes me happy.' –Finnick Odair."

Annie masked her smile as she looked back to her mentor. It was a giddy schoolgirl sort of blitheness that filled her, even though she suspected Gossamer had probably fed the line to him.

"That's a direct quote." He smiled at her. "And District Four completely approves."

* * *

><p><strong>Good lord, that was a lot for one chapter. I struggled with it through the beginning - and even rewrote it several times, which is why it took so long to update - but I feel that I redeemed myself with the end bit.<strong>

**I hope that I am doing well with Annie's and Finnick's characters, feedback would be lovely! And on that note, PLEASE REVIEW! When you fabulous readers don't review, I feel like I have let you down. I don't want to disappoint anyone. Thank you for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**Where Annie fails to impress.**

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><p>"It's time for another important day!" cheered Gossamer, strutting in happily to the dining room. She sighed and turned the lights on brighter, not bothering to call for an attendant to adjust them for her. She stole the seat between Mags and Finnick, separating one tribute and their team from the other. "Do you both know what you're going to show the Gamemakers today?"<p>

Rayne nodded, setting his fork on the rim of his scraped-clean plate. "I am going to be all over those combat stations." Of course he was; he had mastered everything from hand-to-hand fighting to knives and spears in the past two days of training. He appeared excited though, and needless to say confident, as his bright eyes flashed.

Annie shrank back into her chair as Gossamer's glittery gaze flickered to her. It looked her over, examining her as if she was a net up for inspection in the market square. "I don't know what I am going to do," she answered, hoping that her tone of voice was unsure as if she had so many choices to debate upon. Annie released a sigh of exasperation, as if thinking, when in reality she knew there was nothing she could to do impress the Gamemakers. What was she good at – tying knots?

"Better think fast," said Rayne, smiling. She could not tell if her district partner was hoping her ill will or not. Annie's eyes darted from his face to Gossamer's and still could not decide which it was. "Training session starts in a half-hour."

"And then you're in our hands," Rea grinned, drawing Annie's attention away from that end of the table. Her stylist understood that she was still rattled from yesterday's events and was more than willing to stick up for her. She made a small gesture towards the rest of her prep team. "We've got a big night of interviews to prepare for!"

Annie had never had a reason to dress up before, aside from the Reaping every year. The parade on her first day in the Capitol had been her first real event, to anyone's standards, and she couldn't help but look forward to another. "At least I have that to look forward to!" she chipped. Annie had decided that she was going to try not to bring everyone else down with her, even if she was dying on the inside herself.

Finnick smoothed the skin over the back of her hand. She turned towards him, having to shift slightly in her chair. Annie was more accustomed now to his behaviors and tendencies than ever before and found herself loving it, and dreading the moment she would be thrown into the Arena. "Knots are probably your best bet," he told her. "It's what you're best at."

"And you don't have to depend on your score to impress the audience in the Capitol!" reminded Gossamer. "Not after the picture's anyway. Finnick has plenty of people willing to help you now."

Her mentor squeezed her hand, temporarily drawing her mind away from the comment. "Let's get you ready, lovely," Finnick smiled, ignoring the spitting comments that her prep team was sending their way. They didn't want him touching her, fearing that all of their hard work spent cleaning her up would be spiraling down the drain within the next ten minutes. Annie nodded at him and followed him from the dining hall, ignoring Ophelia's calls after her.

Her sweat suit had been laid out on her bed, which had been made with fresh sheets since she had left for breakfast. Annie gathered the items in her hands and turned towards her bathroom, though her eyes kept tugging her to Finnick. He stood by her window, facing the city, his silhouette dulled by the bright morning light. The clothes slipped from the girl's hands and landed in a shapeless pile on the floor, as she was captivated by him, his stern posture. Annie walked over to stand beside him, timidly reaching for his hand. His incredible green eyes flickered as he glanced down at her.

"What's wrong?" Annie asked, rallying a pool of courage inside of her. She stroked his palm with her thumb. She had never been close with anyone outside of her family before and didn't know how she should be handling these types of situations, but figuring that she would be dead within days, Annie didn't have anything to lose. As long as she felt comfortable, anything she wanted to say was free game. Though, she did feel awkward when Finnick looked away from her.

His gaze was firmly placed on their entwined hands; it seemed to bring the faint ghost of a smile to his lips. "I needed to talk with you," he said, eyes darting from her face to their hands again. It made Annie happy that he appeared just as comforted by her touch as she was by his. "And I hate being dramatic, but I couldn't do it in front of everyone else."

"Okay." Annie waited for him to continue, but instead Finnick just looked across the Capitol skyline. His eyes seemed to drift just like the waves rolling in the bay. She swayed gently, rocking from her heels to her toes, shoulder brushing against Finnick's. When she was with him, she could be cheerful without the weight of the Games or the sorrow of her distant family straining her. "What do you want to talk about?"

"You're holding my hand," he said, lingering off topic. Finnick was truly smiling now. Annie didn't think that she had ever seen him beam so brightly, never with her, never on his visits to the Capitols for the Games. The only match she could think of was when he won the Games and the relief of leaving the Arena washed over him, the trident falling from his grasp to the feet of his final victim. He squeezed her hand.

Annie shivered. "Yes," she breathed.

"Because of the strategy or because you want to?" His tone of voice was unsure, unstable. Her heart was struck with pain at Finnick's sadness. He didn't believe that her intentions were pure. Annie lost her balance and stumbled, falling into her mentor. He caught her, muscled arms holding her against his chest. He was tense, but that soon vanished when he realized that she was not trying to slip away.

The girl brushed brunette hair from her eyes. "Because I want to," she answered, breathing in his sweet salt watery scent. Even though he hardly ever spent time in District Four – the Justice Building always made a point of his return – the smell of their home was forever on his skin. Annie had never wanted to go swimming more in her life. "What…what about you?"

Finnick lifted her chin up towards him. "Because I want to," he assured. "Because you're real and treat me like I am an actual person. Because you don't treat me like a victor."

"I'm sorry" was her immediate response. Annie ducked her head, pressing her ear over his heart. Why didn't she treat him like a victor? He must be so displeased with her. Her cheeks darkened with embarrassment. After a moment, she draped her arms around him, resting her delicate hands over his shoulder blades. She could feel his magnified movements under her fingertips – the rise and fall of his shoulders with every breath, warmth of his skin, and the trail of his spine under athletic muscle.

"Why?" he asked glibly, as if he expected that. Finnick pressed his lips against the top of her head, breathing in her scent. He, too, was reminded of home. "I like it better like this." Finnick was overwhelmed with warmth and happiness as he held the girl in his arms. She was nothing like the women he normally spent his time with, Annie was so much better. District Four being one of the largest districts in Panem they had never met before and Finnick was beyond upset with this. He felt that he needed this girl in his life, and that he had not had enough of her. Forever would only fill the void.

"I just…that's what you expect from people, right?" Annie clarified. She was slowly losing herself among the beat of his heart, which was now beating in unison with hers. "I'm sorry I didn't know this sooner."

"Annie," he grinned, taking a step back from her. Finnick's arms slipped from her back to her arms, holding her at arm's length from him. Her fingers itched for his touch again. "I don't want the fame of the Games going to my head. Do you know how many people treat me normally? You and Mags."

She beamed like a schoolgirl. Annie was emotionally exhausted, he had taken across and ocean's worth of horrid worry to blithe smiles in the past ten minutes. She slid her fingertips over his sleeves. Finnick grasped her wrist and led her hand up his arm, neck, and jawline until her fingers rested on his lips. Surprise flooded Annie's dark eyes. "Finnick," she breathed, watching him peck each fingertip, his warm breath dancing across her skin.

"Time to go to training," he decided, glancing over her head to the pile of clothes she left on the otherwise spotless floor. Finnick pressed his lips against her forehead. "I want you to make the Gamemakers remember you" said her mentor against her skin. "Tie a noose or a trap, a net isn't going to cut it with them."

Annie nodded. After another minute of preparing herself to pull away, she drew herself away from Finnick. He slipped from her bedroom and she changed into her sweat suit in private; Annie was surprised when she found it wasn't drenched in sweat from yesterday, especially since she didn't think it had left her room. It smelled clean. The girl met the rest of the District Four team in the hallway, where they proceeded to the elevator together. When she and Rayne were tucked inside the elevator, watching the doors close and listening to their escort bid her excited goodbyes, Annie's and Finnick's gazes were locked until the doors pressed shut. As soon as they were, Annie was empty inside.

The crowd of tributes had pooled around the elevator exit. At first glance, Annie didn't notice anything had changed inside the gym like she had expected, but her second inspection revealed that the gymnasium had been entirely cleared out aside from twenty-four chairs that were now lined against a wall that sliced the hall in half. Someone pinned the number 4 to her back and directed her to the eighth chair in line. She sat beside Rayne and watched the other tributes find their seats before the session began. One by one, the tributes from the first three districts were called into a separate room with the Gamemakers. Each time she heard a number called out, Annie's heart swelled with panic. When Rayne was called, Annie reached for him as he walked away. He gave her a final look of reassurance before he disappeared into the Gamemakers' quarters.

Forty-five minutes later, the Gamemakers called for "the female tribute of District Four" and all of the remaining tributes' eyes were locked on Annie as the attendant walked her into the Gamemakers' room. There was a panel of them – Annie's mind was too frazzled to count them all – each one dressed in purple robes and holding a wine goblet in their hand. There was a feast set out before them, and the delicious scents wafted to Annie as she made her way across the floor. She tried to remember what Finnick had told her to do as she grabbed several ropes from the knot-tying station. Annie sat before the Gamemakers on the center mat and lost herself in her work. Before their eyes, the Gamemakers watched as the weak little girl sitting in front of them tied a threatening noose. Annie inspected her product when she thought she was finished, tweaked several of the ropes, and then proceeded to the wrestling station. She strung the noose around one of the dummy's necks. Annie, who was fairly disturbed with herself for succeeding in creating such a dangerous device, held the thing up for show.

"Very well," said one of the male Gamemakers sitting towards the middle of the table, tone slurred slightly by the amount of alcohol in his blood, as he waved her off dismissively. "You may go now, District Four."

Annie had to think through his thick Capitol accent – which was even more prominent than Gossamer's – to understand what she had been ordered to do. She nodded quickly, as if to thank the people responsible for taking away her future, as she hurried to follow the attendant out of the room. As soon as she had stepped from the Gamemakers' quarters, she was drowning in a torrent of second-guesses. From the very most hidden corners of her mind, a voice came ringing out, telling her that the Gamemakers were not in the least bit impressed with her – especially not after watching the other true Careers.

She followed the silent Capitol attendant up a back flight of stairs, and then another, and then another, only stopping when she reached a door with the number four painted on it in blue ink. Annie burst through and found herself standing at the end of the corridor beside her bedroom door, on the verge of tears. Her throat was hot and closing in on itself and her heart was heavy. The only thing that kept her from crying was the reality that the others would be disappointed in her if she did.

"You're score is going to be announced before the interviews with Caesar Flickerman tonight," she heard Gossamer saying. Annie ran down the hall towards the sound of her clipped Capitol accent in a panic. "It's used to get the audience hyped up and a slight reflection before the tributes are introduced on camera."

"Annie's already got a head start on that, hasn't she?" asked Rayne. He sounded upset.

Gossamer giggled. "I guess she does."

Finnick grunted.

The girl's prep team caught her before anyone else could. The trio sucked her into the quarters where all of their supplies were set up. Annie searched their excited faces for an explanation. Faye piped up, "Rayne's team doesn't have as nearly as much work to do. We've got to start much earlier on you!"

Ophelia clapped her hands, shushing Faye politely. "Not that you're terribly awful looking, Annie," she tried to tell her. She assisted Annie onto the metal table much like the one in the Remake Center and laid the girl down, working to strip away the clothes drenched from her nervous sweat. "It always takes more time because we have to do your hair, whereas the boys never have much to work with."

Annie understood this. It was the style in District Four for the men to crop their hair short, unlike the women who wore theirs past the center of their backs. Annie's hair never grew very long and fell in soft waves to her shoulder blades, as her mother's did. She laid back calmly, skin jolted by the icy table's surface. The first thing the prep team did with her was scrub her raw with warm cloths, and then massage candy-scented oils that stung her nostrils into her skin. After being wiped down for a second time, every inch of skin the oil had seeped into was cleared of any hair so all that remained were her eyebrows and the hair on her head. It wasn't unheard of for the girls her age training to be Careers wax themselves of hair for swimming competitions in the bay, but Annie had never done it before and hated feeling so bare.

Next, came forming her nails into uniform shapes and coating them with blue polish, washing out her hair with a shampoo that had a consistency similar to jam, and skin exfoliated with an intense soap. Annie wondered why they weren't tending to her face, as they were most excited to get to that the last time. The trio moved her from the table into a large bathtub. Annie could have sworn that the water was tinted blue, but simply dismissed the idea as some sort of reflection from elsewhere in the room. She was instructed to sink into the tub, submerse herself entirely, and come up only when she absolutely needed air. Annie did so and the longer that she stayed underwater, the more her skin began to sting. She climbed out of the tub, gasping desperately for air, when the stinging became too intense. After her skin had calmed, Ophelia helped her back into the bathtub where she was to repeat the process. It happened several times before Annie was in unbearable pain and flatly refused.

When Rea entered the room, lugging in cases full of accessories and carrying a bag above her head that held the final designs, Annie's eyes were crusted shut from being shut for so long. She tried to greet her stylist but Charmant quickly clamped his hand over her mouth. He was painting her lips with silky, moisturizing color. Faye was making sure strokes on her eyelids with a brush that left her skin crisp. Ophelia was decorating her forehead and cheekbones with what felt like swirling, lace-like designs. Annie couldn't even fidget uncomfortably. She heard Rea drop her things.

"I hope they've told you how fabulous you look," Rea said. Annie could feel the woman's eyes inspecting her, but the prep team kept her still. The woman's comment didn't make her feel any better.

"I'm more excited for your dress," Annie spat quickly the second that Charmant moved his hand from her lips. She only realized after the words escaped her lips that she had probably insulted her prep team.

"As you should be." Annie could hear the smile in Rea's voice. "I am so incredibly proud of this, you don't even know!" The sophisticated woman sounded like a little schoolgirl.

It made Annie happy that Rea could be proud of what she did, especially since she had spent her entire life's talents on the noose that morning that could have saved her life – as ironic as that was – and she had spent every moment since then second-guessing her skills. "That's great!" Annie chirped. She didn't need to pretend and sound genuine.

It took the entire team to dress Annie in her dress. She loved the feel of the expensive fabric against her skin, which felt softer than it normally did. When the prep team stood Annie in front of the full-length mirror and she opened her eyes, her mouth dropped open. And it wasn't because of Rea's dress.

It was because her skin was blue.

Not dark blue, it was a faded blue like worn out fabric, but it was everywhere. Her arms, hands, chest, neck, face – everywhere. Her mind jumped back to the suspicious blue tint of her bathwater and she screamed.

"It's only temporary," Ophelia assured her, but that wasn't Annie's problem. She looked like she belonged on the streets of the Capitol. What were her parents going to say when they saw her? Or…Finnick! What would Finnick say? "It'll wash of when we clean you after the interviews tonight."

Annie couldn't respond. Shock was still on the forefront of her mind, keeping her entire body locked up. Her eyes lingered away from her faint blue skin to the dress Rea had carefully dressed her in. It was pearly white silk with a sweetheart neckline; it bunched over the sides of her ribcage and fell over her hips to the floor in an elegant waterfall fashion. The first thing that it reminded Annie of was a wedding dress. While it was nothing like the dozen or so that were kept in the woman's fashion store in the market square, the ones that were specifically designed by the Capitol to reflect District Four and shipped in to be rented in and out by almost every woman in the district, it was painfully familiar and unnerved her to look at. It was another reminder that the Capitol was taking her rightful future.

"It looks like a wedding dress," breathed Annie in fear. She didn't want to know what people would think when they saw her in this dress. Her family would think she was an entirely different person, despite only leaving home a few days ago. Her heart sank.

"Does it really?" asked Rea, cocking her head to the side, eyebrows furrowing. "I loved the neckline and the waterfall patterns together, and I chose the color to highlight your skin. I didn't realize…"

"It's not that I don't love it!" assured Annie, lying through her teeth. She didn't want to seem ungrateful to a woman she actually liked. She ran her palms down her thighs, feeling the silk against her fingertips. It was rather beautiful… "Because I do. It's just…sad."

"If you don't treat it like a wedding dress, it won't be seen as one," promised Rea with a reassuring smile. She placed her hands on Annie's shoulders and gave her a shake. "Just hold your head high through the interviews and smile. They are going to love you."

* * *

><p>"What do I do, Finnick?" asked Annie under her breath, reaching for his hand. She stood backstage at the interviews with Caesar Flickerman, heart beating thunderously. The City Circle had been turned into a huge amphitheater with spotlights and an enormous stage and rows and rows of colorful Capitol Citizens waiting eagerly in their seats to see this year's tributes. "They all hate me! I got a three in training. A <em>THREE<em>!"

Even Annie had expected to do better than that. She had watched the broadcast where the scores were announced with Rayne, Finnick, and Mags. All of the other Careers had averaged in the eight-to-ten range, while the rest of the tributes hovered around a six. Her heart had sank when her picture appeared on the screen and a three flashed beside her profile. It was the lowest score Annie had seen anyone receive in the Games.

"Be you," Finnick told her confidently. He pecked her nose once, smiling. Annie's cheeks flushed purple with a mix of faint blue dye and the blood rushing to her face. "I have all the confidence in the world in you."

"But the three–"

"He won't mention it."

Annie didn't hear what he told her next because she and Rayne were ushered to the stage, each directed to take a seat in a huge arch that stretched around the back of the stage. Caesar Flickerman, hair and eyelids and lips dyed bright violet for this year's games, came bouncing to the stage in his signature midnight blue and star dotted suit smiling and drawing applause from the crowd. Annie was terrified seeing him in person. This man had hosted the interviews for thirty-five years now, and his appearance hadn't changed since Annie could remember first watching the Games. He may have made even the weakest tributes seem memorable, but he always seemed to lure them into a false sense of hope for winning the Games. Annie didn't want to leave feeling like she stood a chance.

Girl from One. Boy from One. Girl from Two. Boy from Two. So on and so forth. With each interview Annie felt her confidence draining from every inch of her body. Her cheeks were now icy cold and entirely empty of color – aside from the blue tint the prep team's dyes had left her with. Everyone interviewed before her seemed to have nailed their strategies head on – ruthless, adorable, quiet, clever, they were all brilliant. And what was she? The girl having a fling with her mentor. At least half of that was real.

Soon, Annie hears her name called and she is beckoned to center stage by Caesar. She passes the boy from Three, who gives her a particularly sour look, as she carefully steps into place. Her white gown ripples with her every movement, truly falling away from her slim body like a waterfall. She felt beautiful and caught Finnick's eye in the crowd. "Smile," he mouthed to her. She did.

"Annie Cresta," Caesar breathed as he grasped her hand, gazing her over with an impressed gleam in his eyes. His touch was too different from Finnick's; it sent chills racing up Annie's spine. She shivered, ducking her head as she smiled as if to hide a blush. "You look lovely."

"Thank you," she beamed. Oddly, Annie was filled with a bubbling glee that filled her to the brim. Her eyes darted to Finnick again. He was nodding at her, as if to say 'just go with it'.

"Tell me what a change coming to the Capitol has been for you; District Four has one of the worst times adjusting to the altitude in the Capitol."

"I haven't noticed much of a change, honestly. Aside from the food, I am just as comfortable here as I am at home." It would have been her lying through her teeth if it weren't for Finnick, the genius who knew exactly how to calm her down. Annie would never let them know that, though.

"What must your family think of all of this?" asked Caesar, looking over her dress several more times. "I remember your brothers' reactions at the Reaping, they were heartbroken. And with the three, it isn't expected for you to stand much of a chance."

Annie's pleasant mood took several blows at the mention of her brothers and the three, her heart grew sick. Her expression didn't reflect this whatsoever. "I don't think that three was deserved," she admitted, feeling a tad like Gossamer. "But I will play the hand I've been dealt. I cannot let my brothers down, I love them too much."

"After your pictures from the other day, I doubt the three is even going to affect you," Caesar nodded, playing up her confidence. She felt the audience siding with her.

Annie giggled, thinking of Finnick. Just the thought of him brought a smile to her lips now. Also, the stage was bringing a new life to her that she never expected to find.

"I must say, your dress really is something of a fashion statement!" he said amazed. Caesar turned towards the audience. "Doesn't she just look fabulous?" The Capitol citizens burst into a roar of applause. Caesar spun Annie around; she twirled happily with a smile plastered on her face.

"Wouldn't it be something if Finnick and her stylist were planning a little something for her in this dress?" he asked the crowds of crawling aristocrats. Annie's cheeks turned violet, just like his hair. She knew enough to understand what he was hinting at – Rea knew it looked like a wedding dress. Caesar turned to her. "So, we've all seen those pictures and have a good idea as to what is going on between you and Finnick, but tell us – what is it like having the most popular man in the Capitol as your mentor?"

"Finnick is wonderful," she answered, false honesty unneeded. Annie's eyes saw past the spotlights directed at her and found Finnick again. He was smiling and hiding his face. There was no doubt that the cameras of Panem were focused on him at that moment. "I love spending time with him. He is so good to me."

"It must be very hard for the two of you to think of the approaching Games." Caesar is setting Annie up for something she couldn't see down the path. She wanted to be careful with her words, but it was too easy to hear herself being scolded. "I couldn't imagine being taken from a loved one."

_I've already been taken away from my parents and my brothers_, Annie wanted to say,_ Finnick will just be added to the list of people the Capitol has taken me away from_. Tears rimmed her eyes and Annie couldn't mask it. "It's unbelievably difficult," she whimpered. Her fuss was striking the hearts of people across Panem, and without a doubt the Capitol.

"Do you love him, Annie?" asked Caesar, accompanied by encouraging woops from the audience. It was remarkable how much energy and excitement the Capitol citizens had regarding the Games, they were like young children that were being denied the severity of the Games explained to them. She glanced around the crowd, desperately searching for Finnick, as if he was going to tell her what to say, but was distracted by the commotion among the audience.

"I…" Annie had never been more embarrassed in her life. She had never even thought of Finnick that way and was beyond unprepared to answer. He was comfort to her and he was a friend – he was something she could never have. Yet, he was telling some reporter of a Capitol magazine that she was his happiness. Her gaze was distant as she pulled away from reality, giving her room to breathe and sort through her swimming thoughts. What would she be expected to say?

"It's hard to say, isn't it?" asked Caesar with a smile. "Being so young, so much on your plate at the moment."

Annie nodded. The stage was giving way beneath her feet, or maybe that was just her knees. Either way, the girl was wobbling in her expensive high-heels and needed to sit down again. Were these nightmarish three minutes over yet?

"So, here's what you do," he offered with a reassuring pat on her shoulder. "You win the Games and get back to him, and then you have plenty of time to make up your mind. Maybe take more pictures…?" The Capitol roared in agreement with his last statement.

Annie stared down at her blue hands. It was all so foreign to her, frightening and unnatural. She wanted to leave the stage sobbing, but the cameras kept her from acting rashly. She looked back up to Caesar, patiently waiting for her to respond. "Yeah," she agreed, confidence slowly spreading through her system. "I need to come back for him."

In the crowd of surgery-altered Capitol creatures, Finnick was smiling. Hearing her say that she needed him was more than he could have ever hoped for. It was all real. Then again, so was the possibility of losing her forever.

Three minutes exhausted the timer and soon Annie was returning to her seat. Rayne was next, and he confidently bounced to the stage. There were two interviews that she wanted to pay attention two, and since she didn't know if her attention span was impressive enough to last until the second, she paid close attention to her district partner's. Annie saw Caesar setting him up for many opportunities to mention Calypso or whatever happened to his parents, but Rayne avoided answering with ease. The crowd was wild for him, though. While she tried not to fall asleep on stage during the other interviews, Annie looked to Finnick nervously. He just kept smiling at her. Before she knew it, time came for the final interview: Hollis Catch from Twelve.

The Capitol audience that had gathered in the City Circle had lost their zeal as they had for the earlier interviews, or perhaps it was because District Twelve not very well liked. Aside from the Careers and the twins from Eleven, Rae and Chelle Enev, they didn't pay much attention to anyone else. Hollis didn't seem to let this affect him, though. He treated his interview the same way the earliest tributes did.

"I've got my fiancé waiting at home for me," he said when Caesar asked why he was so strongly motivated. "And I promised her I would do everything I could to get back to her."

Annie's heart nearly broke listening to him talk about her, his Britte.

* * *

><p>As Ophelia promised, the blue dye washed away from her skin within a few minutes of her shower and was swirling around the drain at her feet. Annie had been rushed back to the Training Center by her prep team as soon as she stepped off the stage. She had called for Finnick to come with her, but he had to stay with the other mentors for their own set of interviews. They were the only thing about the Games that weren't mandatory to watch – or at least not in District Four since they were on so late and the Peacekeepers wanted everyone out on the water no matter what the next day – so Annie didn't remember watching them. She only recalled people gossiping about them later. Now, here she stood, ears flooded with water and the sound of a television buzzing just outside of the bathroom as Ophelia and Faye watched the interviews, waiting for her to finish.<p>

"I don't even know the pair from One!" she heard Faye draw out. "The victor pools are so big now, they're not even popular victors!"

Ophelia sighed. "Two isn't any good this year, either. It's like they don't even care about their tributes!"

"At least Finnick and Mags are almost on," Faye said. "These two are insufferable."

Annie turned the shower off and stuck her hand out, feeling around the counter for her towel. She wanted to see Finnick's and Mags' interviews before she went to bed. She wrapped the soft cloth around her torso and stepped from the stall, escaping the steam. The pair outside of the bathroom continued to bicker of pointless, Capitol problems while she dressed in pajamas embroidered with sea stars. When Annie stepped into the bedroom, she found Faye and Ophelia sitting on her bed, enthralled by the television. Finnick was already on the screen.

"I thought that I already had all I could ever want," said Finnick to Caesar. "I won the Games, I have enough money to provide for my family for the rest of our lives, and I have all the wonderful company I could ever ask for. Then I got luckier, because then I met Annie."

"So…you love her?" Caesar asked.

"Yes, I love her." Finnick continued, using the most alluring tone Annie had ever heard. His words carried a beautiful rhythm that lulled Annie like a song. He was seductive, yet innocent at the same time. His poem captivated the audience in the City Circle as well as Annie. It was about love and loss and wanting to keep what was never his, how beautiful she was and how he felt when he was with her.

She stared at the screen, trying to decide if what he was saying was the truth. Her heart ached for him, feeling something like what she felt when she saw Fletcher's and Vance's faces at the Reaping. Was that love? Was Caesar right? Now Annie felt bad, Finnick had just poured out his heart to her over live television and she was sitting here thinking of her brothers.

"I love you, too, Finnick," she told the screen. He smiled seductively at the camera, as if he had heard her.

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><p><strong>That chapter was over twenty pages and 5000 words - a personal best for me, I believe. I had so much fun writing this it's unreal, so I really hope that you guys enjoyed it.<strong>

**Also, I want to thank every one of my reviewers and those of you who have favorited and followed my story! It all means so much to me. I appreciate it all! Thank you.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**Where the Games begin!**

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><p>Nightmares leeched her brain, sucking out whatever glimpses of hope were left. Mostly, they were about having swapped places with Vance at the Reaping and watching him dragged to the stage and then through the interviews and in the Arena. Every now and then, Annie's mind brought her horrible hints at what her own Arena might be. She was being sucked up through the ground above as tributes were every year, screaming and reaching for the man that now represented her home.<p>

"Please!" she whispered in her sleep, tossing and turning and tangling herself in her comforter. Annie's dark hair was splayed across her pillows, knotting with each thrash of her head. "Please don't make me go!" Her throat was hoarse from hours of screaming and was now scratchy and weak. "Finnick…"

Her eyes shot open, dazed. Annie was on her back, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was blank, but the terror of the nightmare remained coursing through her system. She shivered, her skin exposed to the cool bedroom. The blankets had been kicked to the foot of the bed or twisted around her legs during her sleep, and while Annie was freezing, she didn't try to cover herself. When she sat up to gather the blankets, she was somewhat startled by what she saw. Draped over the lumps under the sheets were her shins were, there was a blanket she had to squint at to see correctly. It was knit tightly and every few threads there were that of a blue or green, the traditional colors of District Four. The closers the colors were weaved, the more evident the diamond pattern they formed was. Annie had seen its twin before back home, folded at the end of her bed every night. It looked exactly like the ratty old thing she had kept since she'd been born. When it was pulled up over her shoulders, it even smelled of District Four, but nothing like hers did.

Annie drifted in and out of a light sleep for the remaining hours of the night, though it didn't leave her feeling any more rested. Her dreams were laced with dreams and nightmares alike, all involving the Games in some way shape or form. It was because things were particularly stressful that she was granted fantasies of returning home and seeing her brothers and moving into the lovely house in the Victors' Village. When she woke again, the longing for home was stronger than ever because her dreams had been so realistic. Annie stayed in bed for the longest time, unable to see past the drawn curtains to assess the time, assuming that she had nothing to get out of bed for.

"Good morning, lovely," Finnick said sadly as he stepped into the room. His incredible sea green eyes were glazed with sorrow, just as Vance's were when he watched Annie being taken away at the Reaping. Her mentor drew back the drapes, allowing light to pour into the room. The sky over the Capitol was grey and dreary; the streets were damp from the night's rain. It was strange to Annie that she hadn't heard the rain, since she was so used to hearing the patter of the downpour above her head during even the lightest rain at home. He stood at her bedside and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of his hand.

Annie just nodded, unable to manage words or even a smile. She could tell what was coming by the depression that had settled into his features. Finnick was normally so alluring, so cool, and now it was difficult to look at him because his beauty was tarnished with such sorrow. Why couldn't he stay as happy as he was yesterday when he read his poem? Annie sat up, watching him carefully.

"They cancelled the mentor interviews because of me," he informed, trying to smile. "President Snow didn't…enjoy what I said about you, to say the least." Finnick hid the rest of the story well, Annie didn't detect that there was anything else to be said.

She smiled as tears threatened to swell. Annie was more stressed today than the day of the Reaping, she could only imagine what it would be like during the transfer she was expecting later. "I thought it was sweet," she murmured. "I don't want you to get in trouble with President Snow…" Her eyes darted around the room in a panic.

Finnick shook his head. "I've been in trouble with President Snow for years," he explained. Annie had this awful feeling it was because of the Games, but she didn't ask. She balled up handfuls of comforter in frustration. "I don't think this is going to change things much."

Annie forced herself to relax a bit; she let the tension ease out of her shoulders. "I don't want you to be in trouble, though…" she tried to protest, ignoring the fact of his confessed love altogether. Annie felt so childish, so young and too naïve for him. Finnick glanced at her, shaking his head, as if to tell her not to worry about it. President Snow was not someone anyone wanted to deal with, she didn't know a single person that agreed with him in office in District Four. Several of Vance's passionate rants against the Capitol flooded her mind. "When are we going to leave today?"

"As soon as possible," answered Finnick. He read the lines of worry creasing her face like pages in a book. He wanted to hold her, but didn't want to make saying goodbye any harder than it had to be. The last thing Finnick wanted was to make it seem like a final goodbye, he had all the faith in the world in her to return. "But the train won't leave the station until everyone is there so I don't think we have much to worry about."

"Finnick," Annie protested. Her eyes were electrified with concern, they gleamed in the grey light that shown in. He caught her gaze. "I don't want to go."

For the first time, Finnick could see that she truly was still a child, that she was naïve and pleading like she had no other support. And she didn't really at this point. He dropped his head, unable to look at her anymore. He tended to forget that the worst she had been through was the Reaping; she didn't have true adult experiences – not like he did anyway. "I know," he whispered. Finnick shook his head, gulping down the bile rising in the back of his throat to keep from crying. "I know. But you're going to come out."

Annie couldn't believe his words. She began to reach for his face, as if to cup his cheek in her hand, but paused before brushing his skin. Her chest was tight. Her lungs were unable to be filled. She brought her hand back to wipe the tears dribbling down her own cheeks. Her heart was swirling with conflicting emotions like a whirl pool; was she supposed to tell him that she would try when she really didn't think she would make it through the initial bloodbath? Annie remembered his words from the Reaping. _Just make it through the first night_.

She had never sobbed harder in her life.

The train ride out of the Capitol consisted of long silences between the five. Mags would occasionally try to remind them of things she and Finnick had directed them to do through training or over a meals, where they spent so much time growing closer to one another, but her voice eventually gave-way to her swelling tears and she choked up. Annie kept her face buried against Rayne's shoulder as the pair of tributes grasped hands. She and Finnick still weren't looking at each other. Even Gossamer couldn't slice through the thick tension in the air, for she too was upset about the day as well. The compartment was uninterrupted the entire trip until a Capitol attendant informed them they had arrived at their destination.

The further that they traveled away from the Capitol, the sunnier it became.

It was strange, to say the least, when Annie found herself standing in utter darkness. Their group followed one of the attendants from the train until they were all crowded into a single space, cramped as they stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Her stomach sank as it did when she rode the elevator in the Training Center and she immediately knew that they were going underground. She jumped with a start when a hand grazed over hers, but the light of the Launch room revealed it was Rayne standing beside her and not Finnick.

The room was entirely made of stainless steel. It was filled with technology that she had no name for and there were plenty of attendants and even Gamemakers rushing around in preparation. Twenty-four transparent tubes shot up from the ground, placed equal distances apart to from one another to form an enormous circle within the Launch Room. Annie was intimidated as she saw the rest of the tributes standing before their centers, each assisted into changing into the uniform for the Games – a thin pair of pants and jacket, each with the district number on them, which reflected body heat and fit Annie like a glove.

Annie glanced from left to right as she was told to step up to her launching tube, as if looking for help. Rayne was composed and tense, wearing the face of a Career, whereas the boy from Five was quivering like a leaf. She didn't even want to know what she looked like.

"Wait!" gasped Finnick at the last possible moment. He may not have been able to look at his tribute, but he had stood beside her through it all. Her mentor took her hands into his and brought them against his chest. She could feel his anxious pulse. Annie shook her head quickly, refusing his touch, because she knew that she would break down. She was too emotionally exhausted for final goodbyes. "I want to give you your token, Annie Cresta."

Annie continued to shake her head, but the moment that she looked into his eyes, she froze entirely. She watched, wide-eyed, as he kissed both of her palms and then drew a small object from his pocket. Finnick placed it in her hands and closed them around it. She hadn't even caught a small glance at what it was. Annie, heart-aching, stared at him in confusion. She didn't want to go through this.

"You're not alone, lovely," he whispered, pulling her in and wrapping his arms around her. Finnick was tense. He kissed her forehead and let her fall away from him, gazing upon her sadly. "I love you."

An attendant threw her into the launching tube and closed her in. Annie pressed her clasped hands against the glass, screaming for him, panicking as the metal plate beneath her feet began to rise. She wanted everything to stop. As soon as he had escaped from view, Annie's grip around the tiny thing in her palms tightened. She was wailing madly, unable to think properly. She couldn't even see clearly to assess the arena she was now standing in.

Before anything else, Annie examined the token in her hands. Finnick had left her with a small ring, adorned with intricate carvings of sea shells and fish like in District Four. Her breath hitched in surprised. A small pearl was embedded in the band, gleaming in the sunlight. She slipped it on her ring finger, wiped her tears, and looked up into the Arena.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the seventieth annual Hunger Games begin!" Claudius Templesmith booms. It made Annie sick to hear the smile in his voice.

A golden horn called the Cornucopia sat in the center of the tributes, its mouth stretching up twenty feet tall. Inside of it lay backpacks Annie could only assume had food and other supplies, as well as various weapons, and miscellaneous items that were scattered farther away from the horn with decreasing value. Beyond that, there were stretches of trees taller than she had ever seen at home and a strong river – looking to be about thirty yards wide from where she stood – coursing in the distance to her left. The rest was a plain, and it lived up to the name, without even a shrub in sight. Annie could feel herself shaking. The Arena was more intimidating than she had ever imagined, but somewhere she could imagine Finnick sighing in relief. The river had been put there for her. Things could be so much worse.

Hot sun beat down onto her shoulders as she stood out the remainder of the sixty seconds before the gong sounded and the Games officially begun. At first Annie wanted to compare it to when she spent time on the water and her burnt skin bubbled under her thin clothes, but it was not nearly as hot. It was bearable. She could see the other tributes already breaking a sweat, their foreheads glistening in the direct sun. The closer the clock ticked to zero, the more Annie felt her legs giving out from beneath her. She panicked; any wrong step off of her plate meant being blown to bits. Annie lost her footing just as the gong sounded, but she managed to turn her fall into a sprint forward at the last second.

Annie ran to the beat of her thundering heart. She scooped up two packs at the Cornucopia and slung them over her shoulder, quickly weaving between other tributes. Ignoring the fight for weapons, she sped up towards the river. She wasn't thinking at all. It was lucky that she escaped the bloodbath with only slices on her upper arms and a gash on her shin. There was no doubt that Rayne had stuck with the other Careers to fight out the first day, she couldn't help but wonder if he was the one who did this to her. Annie slowed as she approached the river, carefully treading down a sharp incline that she hadn't expected.

The girl dropped to the ground, exhausted. She had to thread her hands through the grass to reassure herself that it was really there, to dig her fingernails into the dirt to know that it wasn't an illusion. This was the Arena. This was where she was going to die. It amazed Annie that she had escaped the bloodbath that kills nearly half of the tributes each year. She stared, dumbfounded, across the plain to the Cornucopia. It was more than a mile away from her now. She was yet again surprised, never having covered that much ground so quickly before. Annie pounded her hands into the ground, forcing herself to choke back her sobs.

Her packs slipped from her shoulders. Annie knew better than to explore their contents now and hiked them back up. Instead, she crawled closer to the riverbank, knowing that she would only collapse again if she tried to stand. Annie peered into the crystal clear water, curiosity reflected back at her. She could see the smooth sand shaped by the gentle current no more than a few inches below. Minnows darted about beneath the surface. She could smell the water, clearly fresh and supposedly safe to drink, but didn't trust what her senses were telling her. She didn't want to fall prey to the Gamemakers' tricks when she had just defied the odds of survival a moment ago. Unsurely, she brushed her fingertips over the surface, washing away the dirt she had clawed up, and held them there. After a moment, she decided it was at least safe to touch. Annie hiked her backpacks up her shoulder again and dared to stand.

She acted as if she were taking her first steps, ever so slowly, as she wobbled downstream. Annie kept checking over her shoulder to see her footsteps washing away in the damp sand, the ebbing waves licking them clean like she did the food off her plate in the Capitol. It was minutes before she advanced any noticeable length, her legs were screaming at her in agony from her adrenaline-fueled sprint earlier, but soon Annie was following the river into the forest that it parted. She was concealed by the trees looming overhead, and even if anyone found her, she could always dive into the river and swim off.

Annie managed to laugh at herself, even if a few tears slipped out as well. _Look at me! _she thought, grinning madly. _I'm already strategizing!_

With that, Annie was determined not to let herself die off, and since Finnick would want her to at least try to defend herself, that left the Gamemakers as the only certain way she could be killed. Annie leaned back against the thick trunk of a tree and sunk to the ground, leaves crunching beneath her feet. She didn't want to die in the Arena, not with the world watching, but what good was she against a Career? The girl slipped the backpacks from her shoulder, rotated it to soothe its soreness, and them emptied the bags at her feet. She survived the bloodbath, she could do this – it was easier to tell herself this when she imagined Finnick smiling at her in approval.

She listens to the canons fire in the distance, notifying the other tributes of a death, and tries to count them. They are steadily shot off and are too quick for her to follow. Annie counts six deaths before losing track, but there are many more booms to be heard.

Annie began picking through the contents of her packs. Now that she was still, she could feel herself quivering and gasping for air. Once she had calmed herself down, Annie continued with the task she had assigned herself with and hoped that the cameras weren't showing her at the moment. There were a total of five knives – she was so disoriented that she had to count them out aloud several times, despite the dangers of being heard – packets of ready-to-eat meat and fish, a container of sliced apples, three water bottles, enough rope for a basic trap, and a blanket that was lined like her clothes to reflect body heat. Annie couldn't have been happier with what she had picked. There wasn't a single thing she could think of that she would want that wasn't in the backpacks. Of course, _more _rope would have been helpful…

She sat for what must have been minutes just staring at her new belongings, wondering what she should do next. Annie was no good at taking care of herself. While she was independent enough at home – cleaned up after herself, made her and her mother dinner every night when it was just the two of them, did chores without being asked, and such – she hadn't the slightest clue how to fend for herself here. While the river was a helpful touch, the rest of the Arena was beyond foreign to her. Her heart beat faster each time she dared to look around. It took several attempts to sort through her spent mind to think of something relatively smart.

Annie put the packs together again, gathered them on her shoulder, and moved about fifty yards again downstream. There, even further concealed by the trees, she burrowed at the base of a trunk, the roots jutting out the ground made for a cradle in the earth. Annie kept one pack slung over her and tucked the other beneath a root, hiding it from sight. She hoped that she would remember where exactly she put it later. With only herself to look out for, she assumed it would be easy to stick it out until the end.

For the first time since entering the Arena, Annie thought of her family. There was no doubt that they were in the market square, watching the broadcast that kept all of Panem glued to their screens. They must be so rattled, so worried, anxious to see her face again. Fletcher would be gritting his teeth, Vance would be comforting their mother, Nero and Pen shielding their eyes, and Spensa somewhere with their father. She wondered if they had seen her escape the bloodbath, she didn't want them to endear any unneeded stress as they waited the rest of the day for the recap and simply hoped not to see their daughter's face displayed with the rest of the dead tributes. Annie threw her head back, slamming into the tree trunk, and tried not to scream. She didn't want to think like that.

As hours pass, Annie hardly moves a muscle. She stays in her nest at the tree trunk, curled up uncomfortably with her head resting against a root. The longer she goes unmoving, the stiffer her body becomes, but it is never to the point where she is in pain. Annie keeps her mind preoccupied with little things like listening to the rustle of the leaves overhead as the wind picks up, watching animals such as a rabbit and a fox emerge from the trees to lap thirstily at the river, and see the sky darken to a shade of grey. The air smelled like summer to Annie, minus the salt water, and was just as warm. She could feel the still around her, the unnatural calmness, and knew that a storm was approaching. Annie felt that she could withstand this for several days, even with her stomach growling at her. Her plan wasn't turning out to be so bad after all.

Annie held her hand up before her face to further inspect the ring. She had gotten a fairly good glance at it before, when the clock was ticking down, but now that she didn't have to worry about staring her potential murderer in the face, Annie could take a better look at it. It was gorgeous, to say the least. It was a taste of home wrapped around her finger. It brightened her outlook to know that Finnick was thinking about her, willing to do this. She was already in the Games so she might as well wallow in her happiness while she has it.

Drowsiness was settling in. Annie pulled her blanket from her hidden pack and wadded it up to rest her head on as a makeshift pillow. Despite hardly doing anything, she was emotionally drained and drifted off almost instantly after closing her eyes. She even managed to remain calm through her nightmares; she didn't thrash or call out in her sleep.

She woke with a start at the sound of staggering footsteps. Annie found it to be hours later and much darker outside, as well as raindrops sprinkled on her face. Quietly, she rolling over, ducking down behind a wall-like root. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but soon she could see the lumpy, distorted figure faltering to move smoothly. After another minute of watching, Annie could see that it was Hollis carrying another limp body on his back. She cringed, retracting back down into her burrow. It couldn't be a dead body, the Gamemakers wouldn't allow that, but the thought of someone that injured was difficult to process.

The smaller figure groaned in pain as Hollis slid it off of his shoulders onto the ground. He leaned the younger against a tree, propping him up for support. The smaller, Annie could see a boy now, howled in agony again. "Hollis!"

Annie shrank back into her hiding place, eyes straining to see through the rain that had begun to pour. The dull roar of the storm in the leaves overhead hid her movements so she went unheard. Her heart was aching as she watched Hollis crouch down before the boy, examining his abdomen in the cool rain. The younger flinched away from every touch. Annie wondered what had happened to him, but she couldn't reveal herself to ask, even though she thought Hollis being there meant it would be safe. She curled back under a thick tree root to shield herself from the rumbling storm, running her fingers over her ring to distract herself from his cries.

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><p>Finnick stood, wide-eyed and distant, before the large television screen in the cushy broadcast room set aside for the mentors in the Launch Room. He began to shut down starting the moment that he watched Annie rise into the Arena; he was no longer functioning properly. He had stopped breathing altogether until Mags shook him from behind.<p>

"She'll be alright," the woman reminded him in an unmoved tone. She hobbled around to stand beside him, resting her weight on her cane. "It's you that you've got to worry about. She won't make it out unless you focus."

Finnick's mouth hung open but he didn't say anything, his green eyes swam as they tried to focus. He managed to nod at her. "Yes, Mags." He turned back to the screen, watching in pure terror. Every fiber of his being told him to look away as soon as Annie took off for the Cornucopia, expecting her not to make it out alive, but he didn't even flinch. Despite the fifteen-plus other mentors in the room, Finnick dropped to his knees in shock and relief when Annie scooped up her backpacks and made a dash off screen. He knew what she was running for, the river. His sigh of relief quickly turned into him cheering her name. "Annie!"

After a shot of Annie darting across the plain, the cameras shifted back to the Cornucopia where the bodies were literally being piled to the side by the Careers. Anyone smart enough to run had by now, and the Career pack was finishing off the injured and collecting the rest of the supplies. Claudius Templesmith was saying something over the footage, but Finnick's thundering heartbeat drowned out the commentary. Annie was at the water by now, safe and sound.

"I saw that you gave her the ring," smiled Mags, reaching for his tense shoulders again when he had realized Annie was safe. Her speech was slurring, her tongue was too fat for her mouth. "Did you ask?"

"She's sixteen, Mags," Finnick reminded her, voice barely more than a whisper. He kept his mother's ring on him at almost all times; he needed the reminder of District Four when his fame in the Capitol was seeping into his head or when he felt utterly disgusting and torn apart by his 'lovers'. He cursed every one of them under his breath and looked back at the television, hoping to see Annie. "She is sixteen with the Arena to worry about. I gave it to her, but I couldn't bring myself to those words."

"It's got to be the first thing to say to her when she gets out." Mags struggled to pull Finnick back on his feet; her frail arms shook with each tug. He hated watching her strain herself and forced himself up. Even with Rayne to worry about, Mags seemed to believe that Finnick could help Annie return home. She knew that she made him happy.

"Yeah," Finnick grunted. "First thing."

The mentor from District Twelve, a drunk who always seemed to draw attention to himself at the Games, stumbled over to stand beside Mags. "A little young for marriage, wouldn't you say, Odair?" He sounded so sober that Finnick hardly recognized him.

"Not marriage." He was too anxious to be shocked at the question. Finnick's eyes darted back and forth from the television screen to the unkempt alcoholic.

"What then?" This man was obnoxiously nosy. "A ring, Odair. I saw a ring."

He rolled his eyes, ignoring the man's presence entirely. The mentor kept pressing him for an answer, though, and since Annie wasn't being broadcast he decided to answer him just to shut him up. "I was going to ask her out, Haymitch," Finnick spat. "You're forgetting we're still teenagers."

"How sweet," slurred Haymitch.

Mags patted Finnick's shoulder and the pair turned back to the television set. Still no Annie. Or even Rayne, for that matter. The cameras had focused on the body count now. Finnick shivered.

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><p><strong>I cannot believe the number of reviewsfollowers/favorites I got after the last chapter! I love you all so much and appreciate everything! However, I hope that you won't mind when I decide I won't be replying to every review now, I only will if you have questions or such~**

**Anyways. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. I felt I did a much better job of writing it than I ever expected to. I also hope that you won't mind the next chapter will be from Finnick's point of view - just forewarning you. Please review and let me know what you think!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

**Where Finnick explains.**

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><p>Finnick was stupid to think that because it was the Games, that because he was finally taking things seriously to please President Snow, he would get time off from being the Capitol's whore. He hated himself, lying there in the plushy Capitol bed feeling sorry for himself when Annie was in the Arena scared out of her mind, desperately trying to survive the first night. She was depending on him. She needed him. Yet, there he was, battered and worn, all because President Snow wanted to please everyone in his precious Capitol.<p>

He was sinking slowly into the mattress as it formed to the shape of his body. Blankets and pillows were strewn across the bed around him, swallowing him up like the waves of the sea. Finnick stared at the ceiling blankly, wondering how he had become such an awful person. There was once a time when he feared the Games just as Annie did, dreaded the feeling of uncertainty when Gossamer reached into the glass balls with the slips of paper and his name was a possibility, and was as innocent as any child in the market square. He used to spend his afternoons with his father in the bay, helping to catch fish and learning to wield a trident. He used to be a kid. While his teenage years were coming to an end, Finnick had been a man far longer than he had wanted to be. He sighed, chest collapsing in on itself, blinking away the dryness in his eyes.

Finnick breathed slowly and quietly, controlling the soreness that had overtaken his muscles as best he could, and listened to the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. "You can turn on the tele if you want," Persephone called to him, voice echoing off of the tiles. "They're probably playing the recap of the bloodbath today."

Though he struggled with pain, he managed to sit upright and press the button on the woman's nightstand that lowered the television into the room and turned it on. He had practically spent all of last year's Games in this bedroom; he was very familiar with it. Finnick watched, expression distant and shoulders hunched over, as footage from the Cornucopia was replayed and listened to Claudius Templesmith commented on the action. The man's voice made Finnick sick to his stomach. He was still angry with him for what he had said about his tribute last year, about how he had deserved to die.

His heart sped up excitedly, nervously as video of Annie was played on the screen. Finnick's eyes widened attentively as he impatiently waited to hear what had happened to her. He had been pulled from the mentor's room and whisked back off to the Capitol at Persephone's request before he could see what had happened to her after she escaped the Cornucopia, but he knew she would be safe because of the river that had been put there for District Four. The footage showed the girl sprinting away from the bloodbath, carrying two backpacks on one shoulder before it zoomed in to the ring on her finger. Finnick felt his heart drop.

"Annie Cresta didn't have this token until two minutes before she was launched into the Arena," explained Claudius. His pompous voice was terribly irritating to Finnick, and everything he said was even worse. "It was given to her by her mentor, Finnick Odair. It's too bad about those two; there is no doubt after the interviews with Caesar Flickerman that the two are madly in love with each other."

To Finnick, it sounded like something President Snow would say; only Claudius didn't have a voice edged by a razor and suspicion like the old man did. He said it almost genuinely, though Finnick was sure it was scripted by the president himself. He leaned back against the headboard and continued to watch as the footage jumped from clip to clip, mostly focusing on how well the Careers made out at the Cornucopia. They didn't show any more of Annie. He was jittering anxiously.

When Finnick had met Persephone on the platforms in the train station, she had been angry with him over Annie – even though she was well aware of his many other Capitol lovers. It was because she was from District Four, because she was real, that Persephone found reason to worry. She had beaten him down with questions during the cab ride to her lush apartment, demanding to know why he took enough of an interest in her to take those photos – which she called amateur and awful-looking, something he expected to hear. Finnick had no answer for her as to why he liked Annie so much, he sat through an awkward silence with her, trying to think of an answer himself. Why did he like Annie? He couldn't explain it without giving out the whole story, something that he had kept to himself for a very long time. The only other soul alive who knew anything was Mags, and Finnick doubted that her memory served her correctly. He sat through their 'romantic' dinner together replaying the story in his head, worrying about Annie in the Arena, and only trying to please his guest with a flirtatious comment here and there. Finnick knew that he should have been treating Persephone better, as she was the one paying for Annie to survive in the Games, but he couldn't help that his mind was so preoccupied.

Finnick first met Annie seven years ago at his first Reaping when he was unbelievably scared and stood in the market square practically alone. She, being only nine years old at the time, stood outside of the ropes that corralled the eligible kids to the center of the square, nervously clinging to her mother's hand. He didn't know who she was nor had he ever seen her before – District Four was rather large – but he remembered standing just a foot away from her, the rope the only thing separating them, and the panicked look on her face. Of course, Finnick had been terrified as well, and they found the slightest spark of friendship in that shared fear.

"Why are you scared?" he had asked her, slightly irritated. Finnick thought that because she had been outside of the ropes and safe from the Reaping that she shouldn't have been so scared.

"I have five older brothers and they're all in the Reaping this year," she whimpered, squeezing her mother's hand. Mrs. Cresta had reached down to pat her daughter's head and whispered words of reassurance in her ear.

"Oh." Finnick had lowered his head. He remembered feeling guilty for what he had said; he was an only child, but he figured that it had to be just as stressful to watch your siblings stand in the square as it was to be there yourself. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," she had told him. Even back then, Annie had just been golden. "Besides, you have nothing to worry about. My brother says that they picks older tributes from District Four on purpose, says that they are more entertainment for the Capitol. Better fighters."

"Hush, Annie." Mrs. Cresta had snapped, eyes widening with worry. She had glanced around nervously, checking to see if anyone had heard her daughter. "We don't say things like that. They aren't true." The woman gave Finnick a warning glance and then returned her attention to the stage, where Gossamer was happily making her speech.

That was the day that Annie had begun creeping up on him. Finnick doubted that Annie even remembered the exchange now, for when they had met again on the Reaping stage, she knew him only as the fourteen-year-old victor that he had become two years later. He had seen her several times in the market square after that day, usually admiring cakes in the bakery windows with her older brothers. They had bumped into each other once, the summer after he had won the Games, and she had run away from him terrified. Finnick had been so surprised; he stood with his mouth agape staring at the space where she had stood in utter shock.

Then came the day that he turned sixteen. Since having moved into the last vacant house in the Victors' Village and given more money than he could imagine by the Capitol every month, Finnick thought that his life and his parents' lives couldn't get better. His mother was planning a birthday dinner for him, something more extravagant than they had ever eaten before, and his father was going to take him out on the water for the afternoon. Only, he was pulled out of District Four that morning at President Snow's request before even starting to celebrate. Finnick had been dreading the day that he was told to begin mentoring other kids from District Four but the meeting with the president also brought upon news that no one had expected, not Mags who had coached him through the Games, not his parents who were so proud that he made it back alive, and certainly not Finnick. Prostitution. That was the only word that Finnick had for it and was so utterly disgusted that he flat-out refused and stormed from President Snow's office.

When he returned home, Finnick's parents weren't waiting for him at the train station the way they normally did when he returned from visits to the Capitol. His furry quickly faded when he saw Mags standing there instead, appearing even frailer as she had shown to deliver the grave news. While his father had been out on the water, Finnick's mother had gone 'missing'. His father had been detained in the Justice Building for questioning about the matter, although that was just a formality. Mags was certain that his mother had been killed by Peacekeepers – under orders from President Snow. It was then that Finnick was crushed under the weight of his sorrow and understood what new sort of game the president was forcing him into. But this world was much tougher than the Arena.

It was fate that Annie and Finnick met again the next day. For once, though, he didn't see the face of an innocent girl terrified because she lived in the reality of the Reaping. Finnick saw the face of an innocent girl who he might have to be instructing in the Games, growing attached to her and never seeing her return. That was now his reality – along with pleasing whomever the President instructed him to in the Capitol.

"How is she?" asked Persephone, stepping from the steamy bathroom. Finnick hadn't even heard the shower turn off. She sat beside him on the bed, adjusting the towel that she had wrapped around her torso. Seeing her in the light was something strange for Finnick, because now he could see just how plastically altered she was. It was so unnatural to him that it was sickening; it was a sight he would never grow accustomed to. Just another reason to love Annie; she was so pure and untouched, still nervous when undressing in front of others. "Has she been on yet?"

"Just a small recap," Finnick replied, tone unmoved, eyes not daring to break away from the screen. He couldn't afford to miss it if they showed Annie again. "They hardly said anything about her."

"Isn't she with the Careers?" Persephone was sincerely curious. But even so, the Games were still her favorite sort of entertainment and she treated them as such very lightly. To Finnick, they were nothing more than a nightmare. "They should be paying her a lot of attention then!"

He shook his head. Finnick knew that she was better off by herself anyway. If Annie had teamed up with the Careers like Rayne had, there was a greater chance of her dying in the Arena. The Careers tended to pick off the weakest link first every year – and it would have surely been Annie. "She's a loner," he explained. "That's why I need you to sponsor her."

"Ohhhh," Persephone nodded, understanding. She may be a Capitol citizen, but she was nowhere near as slow as the rest of them. "So that's what you're going to use the gift for!"

Finnick nodded. He was still two nights short of sending it to Annie, considering that the prices of each gift go up in value the longer that the tributes are in the Arena. But he could do it, two more nights was nothing anymore. He shivered, disgusted with himself once again. Finnick did his best to shake away the repulsion, but his crawling skin was harder to ignore.

He hardly felt like himself, sitting there on the bed with the touch of the woman's light fingertips lingering on his skin. Finnick's longing to be with Annie was more powerful than ever, and it was consuming his every thought. The girl was District Four to him, minus the Careers and starvation and hard labor. She was a little piece of home that showed up on the Reaping stage and broke his heart. Annie had crept up on him over the course of years and she had no idea. He enjoyed their time together on the train and in the Training Center too much, despite knowing what could happen to her in the Arena. She made him happy. His eyes widened in realization. She made him happy.

"Oh, look, Finnick!" squealed Persephone. It still shocked him to hear her voice shift from a 'seductive' woman's to something like a little girl's – though, he really thought it sounded like an awkward boy going through puberty. "There she is!"

Finnick's distant gaze snapped into focus at the television screen. Annie was shown, nesting in a small burrow at the base of a tree, hidden from the other tributes. She appeared to be alone and sorting through the backpacks that she had managed to grab. Food and water and ropes. That was all the girl really needed. Finnick's eyes lit up and he dared to smile. She stood a chance now. A million things were swimming through his mind, all of them ideas as to what she could do with those ropes. Set a trap. Tie a noose. Go fishing.

"It seems that Annie made off fairly well at the Cornucopia," says Claudius Templesmith over the footage. "She should consider herself lucky – she has made it to the top ten in just the first day!" The screen changes to the list of tributes that were killed that day. Finnick counts fourteen, over half of Annie's competition and the most he had ever seen taken out on the first day. "Fourteen tributes down, nine more until we have our winner! It looks like these Games are going by fast!"

"Whoa." Persephone gasped, dumbfounded. "Fourteen," she repeats, in just as much shock as Finnick. "Fourteen in the first day? That's ridiculous!" The woman nudges Finnick. "Seems like the odds are in your favor after all!"

Finnick didn't answer. He was too busy staring at the faces of the day's victims, ignoring their deaths that replayed on the left half of the screen. All of the Careers and Annie survived, the only others worth noting were the surviving pair from Twelve. The boy from Eleven was out, the only one people seemed to care about, leaving his twin sister in the Arena. All that mattered was that Annie was safe and was going to make it through the night. He allowed himself to sigh in relief, though his body still shook tensely.

Persephone ran her fingers down his bare spine, sending chills through his body. "I'll let you go early tonight," she told him, switching off the television. "Just promise that you'll be back tomorrow."

"Of course," Finnick assures halfheartedly. He dragged himself from the bed and dressed, heading for the door within minutes. He took his time descending the back flights of stairs instead of the elevator, wanting time to think. His thoughts consisted solely of Annie. The cab he hailed drove him back to the Training Center, the only place he knew would welcome him at this hour. He sprinted down the familiar hallways to Gossamer's empty room, unable to go back to his own because his mind tied Annie to it. Finnick burst through the door and rushed to the phone, fingers fumbling as he rushed to dial the only number he could.

"Hello?" said Mags drowsily. She was one of the few people that actually liked Finnick, and since he returned from the Games, they made a promise always to answer each other's phone calls. She was like his grandmother, more than willing to take care of him even outside of the Arena. He wanted to cry at the sound of her voice. "Finn?"

"I don't want to do this anymore, Mags," he muttered into the receiver. It wasn't the usual nature of his calls. "I can't do this anymore."

The old woman didn't say anything; she just stood breathing into the telephone line for the longest time. The last the pair had shared a late night call like this was years ago, when Finnick was just as overwhelmed by being a victor and the Capitol's sick plans for him and the loss of his mother. Mags listened while Finnick poured out every demon he had with the world. His anger was swelling inside of him and he didn't even attempt to talk through it, knowing that he would only end up screaming. He didn't want to make Mags listen to that. She was too good for this, too good for all of this. She knew a world before the Games. She lived through the Dark Days. Finnick knew that she had been through enough to know how insignificant his suffering was. But he was still a child in her eyes – eyes that had seen so much – and she repeatedly promised to be supportive of him, whatever that entailed. Mags broke the silence and his train of thought. "I'm not going to tell you that it gets any easier, dear. But I want you to know that we are going to bring Annie back alive, you just have to make it through the worst of the storm."

Finnick choked on his words. "Mags, I…" He drew in a sharp breath and started over, resting back against the headboard of the bed. His half-lidded eyes dulled. "Mags, what are you thinking? You have to worry about Rayne."

"You should hear the way that nasty boy from District One talks about him," she spits in frustration. "They are planning to pick him off first out of the Careers, they know he would win if they let him live for too long."

For a moment, Finnick wondered how she knew what was happening in the Arena. Then, he remembered that just another luxury that they have in the Capitol is being able to follow the tributes in the Arena at the click of a button, despite what they plan to show to the rest of Panem – whether it be for sponsorships, keeping tabs on favorite districts aside from the fights, or just entertainment. He hated it and what it was used for, but Mags had good reason to watch as much of the Games as she could. It was at the click of a button that probably rested just below her fingertips. After that initial thought, he felt sick knowing that Rayne was going to be killed.

"They were all meant to die," says Finnick sadly. "There is no ignoring it." And if they didn't die, they were damaged goods. Finnick was, Mags was, Annie would be. There wasn't a single victor that he had met that wasn't left in a worse off mental states from the Games than before they went into the Arena. "Just like we were."

They talked for hours. They talked about everything from the Games to Annie and Rayne to District Four to fishing. It still amazed Finnick how Mags could describe how to make a fish hook out of anything – and the fact that she could still swim well for a seventy-something-year-old. His worries were soothed away by their conversations. Finnick could sit and listen to her for as long as he could before his eyes began drooping and his shoulders slouched over. Soon, it wasn't a conversation anymore; it was Mags telling Finnick whatever he needed to hear to save him from a pending anxiety attack.

"We will take her back to District Four and go through all of your mother's old cookbooks and make her a lovely seafood dinner that rivals that the Capitol makes," Mags told him. "And then we can go out swimming. You and Annie can go swimming and fishing and whatever else and I can sit on the docks to supervise you."

This made Finnick smile.

"After that, we will go into the market and buy out all of the cakes in the bakery. One can be for us, and all of the rest can be sliced up and served in the market to whoever wants a piece." This was like an old joke to them; they had done this once before just after Finnick mentored to kids to their deaths in the Arena. Mags brought him into the market square, to which he reluctantly dragged his feet, and then into the bakery. She dropped a sack of coins onto the counter and the baker smiled at her, taking the money into the back of the shop. He returned with three boxes, disappeared and returned with three more, and repeated this until there were nothing left in the back. Finnick had peeked inside to see what the boxes contained and found cakes, more than he knew the bakery made. The pair personally dished out every slice to the people in the market square and saved a dozen for the fishermen docking in the marina. Finnick had never smiled so much in his life. People didn't treat him well that day because he was a victor; they treated him well because he deserved it. "Everyone will just have so much fun and be so full they will have forgotten what it was like to be starving. Then, when we go home, we will celebrate such a wonderful day and sleep for days."

Finnick dozed off with a smile on his lips and the phone resting on his shoulder. Mags called to him several times before hanging up, figuring that he had fallen asleep. Soon, the dial tone rang faintly in his ears, though his conscious mind didn't hear it. While he slept, Finnick dreamt of spearing fish in the bay while Annie and Mags sat on the docks watching, dipping their toes in the waves. Every time that he looked over at them, they were smiling. There was not a single dismal thought remaining in his mind while he watched them so happy, they were wiped away cleanly.

"Finnick!" Mags snapped at him. She had dialed the number he had called from repeatedly until finally got through. "Finnick, turn on your television right now! It's Annie! Watch Annie!"

His eyes fluttered open at the scratchy sound of her pleas. "Annie! Annie! Annie!" Finnick's mind shifted into panic mode as he heard her name being called. It took him a minute to shake himself a wake before he managed to turn on the television and flick to the option of following Annie in the Arena. His fingers fumbled nervously, tingling numbly. The television flickered a moment before adjusting the picture to the screen.

Annie was nested in the burrow created by thick tree roots in which the recap had showed her examining her backpacks in, only now she was resting tiredly back against the trunk of the tree and holding a limp boy in her lap. She was stroking his hair gently, slicking it back from his young face. He couldn't have been more than thirteen, barely eligible for the Games. Annie's face was red and flustered; her dark hair clung to her damp forehead. It had rained in the Arena and everything was soaked. Sitting back on a root across from her was the boy from District Twelve; the one Annie said to have talked with in the gym.

Finnick's eyes widened. His grip around the telephone tightened, but he didn't hold it to his ear. Instead, he watched Annie, still and enthralled.

"So, we've got an alliance?" asked Hollis, digging the toes of his boots into the dirt.

Annie hesitated for a moment, mouth hanging open in the rain. Drops of rain rolled off of her plump lips and dribbled from her chin. "I suppose so…" she trailed off. It was such an Annie response it pained Finnick's heard.

The boy in Annie's arms stirred. Finnick knew his face was familiar, but he could not place why. "Uhn," he groaned. His lips formed inaudible words.

"Shh," Annie shushed him. Her voice was loving, motherly. She had that in her, Finnick suspected, that strong quality that shown through and foreshadowed a great mother. It reminded him of his own mom. She held her hand over his sickly pale forehead. "Cael, moaning isn't going to do you any good."

"He's only got a few hours," Hollis confirmed, lowering his head sadly. The only sound between them was the patter of the rain on the leaves overhead. "He doesn't need to be chastised."

The girl nodded and wiped away her stringy hair from her face.

"I don't want to," whined the boy. He was nothing more than a child, really – a child with a face that was so vaguely familiar to Finnick it was irritating. His blue eyes gleamed in the moonlight brightly, despite being wounded and on the brink of death. The cameras allowed a fair glance at his pale chest and the deep gash that sliced open his abdomen. Annie's jacket had been pressed over it, but she was ringing out the blood now. Finnick wanted to scold her for doing so, since now she might very well freeze to death without the reflective body heat. At least there was a blanket draped over her shoulders. "I don't want to die. I almost had it too! The girl…the girl from One was quicker."

"I know," crooned Annie, running her fingers through his hair. Finnick wanted her to do that with him, to play with his hair like that, but he shook the image to his mind when he realized how sick of a time it was for him to be thinking like that. But as soon as the thought was gone, his mind was drenched with guilt. "I know. And no one blames you."

"Do you think that they will show this on television?" Hollis asked absentmindedly, leaning forward to rest on his knees, calmly controlling the trio with his sureness. Cael had been screaming and instantly silenced at the sound of his voice. "What we've been talking about?"

Annie shook her head. "I doubt it."

"I don't want her to have to see me like this, at my worst," muttered Hollis under his breath.

"Britte would understand, right? The Games always bring out people at their worst." Annie sounded like she had been aged years in the Arena. As the cameras zoomed in on her face, Finnick could now clearly see the dark circles forming under her eyes. She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks, when it reality it had only been days. Finnick found himself having difficulty breathing, watching her suffer like that. He was supposed to be protecting her!

"What about Finnick?" asked Cael, weak as he shifted in Annie's lap. Finnick could place the boy's face now; he was a dead-ringer for his mother, Elyria Marsh, the woman from District Ten who had won fifteen years or so ago. She had met Finnick at the Games last year, when they had both been mentors. It was no coincidence that this child was in the Arena; the odds had never been in his favor. Finnick wondered if Annie knew this. "Aren't you worried about how he'll see you?"

Annie choked out a chuckle, though tears swelled in her eyes. Her smile looked so agonizingly forced it was difficult for Finnick to look at. She was miserable. "Finnick's already seen me as a sobbing mess, seen me hysterical, seen me dyed blue, and seen me naked. There isn't a side left of me for him to see."

"In love?" Hollis offered. "Have you told him that?"

Annie shrugged. "Well…there's that."

A chill rocketed up Finnick's spine. He should have been happy. He should have been ecstatic. But the Capitol had seen this, and possibly even President Snow. And that meant they knew Annie was his weakness, or one of them. He was now going to be stuck being used by them for the rest of his life because he had to keep her safe. Finnick's heart sank.

It was over for them.

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><p><strong>Okay, I know I only updated yesterday, but I have had this chapter done for a while and I couldn't wait for you all to read it. I felt so guilty when I was writing it, simply because of everything that has happened to Finnick and how he is used. Yet, I know it is crucial to the plot of the story. I hope it wasn't too awful.<strong>

**I want to thank you for reviews/favorites/followers, as always. I would also like to forewarn you that I don't know when I will be able to update next, I've been having trouble starting chapter nine. Thank you for reading! Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**Where Annie ****breaks**

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><p>The newly formed alliance slept in shifts. Annie was on watch through the late hours of the night and early of the morning since she had taken a nap the afternoon before and Hollis and Cael were just exhausted from the first day of the Games. She crawled from the burrow and sat in the pouring rain, terribly lonely with only the sounds of the snoring boys behind her to soothe her. When Annie began feeling so painfully alone and helpless that she began to see shapes and hear voices in the trees, she snatched her backpack out from under the tree roots and took out the ropes. Annie tied basic traps and nets to keep her fingers busy and herself distracted. She had finished four basic traps, a noose, and a net tightly woven enough for fishing in District Four.<p>

The next shift began when the sun rose over the horizon, bringing new bright colors to the sky and the damp forest. Hollis roused when the light began to pour into the burrow, careful not to look at the light reflecting off of the river which had flooded from the rain. The current was rushing faster than ever. Annie waved at him and held her trap for show.

"I think that net at your feet would be of more use," he said groggily, eyes darting at the pile of rope beside her. "Have you tried using it yet, District Four?"

Annie shook her head. "I've been keeping watch for you, remember?" She carefully stuffed the traps and the noose back into the pack and stuffed it into its hiding spot again. She rose to her feet and began to back off towards the river.

"Don't you want a turn sleeping?" offered Hollis, climbing out of the nest. He was cautious as he passed Cael, doing his best not to wake him. He caught Annie's shoulder and looked her in the eyes, dull from lack of sleep. "You need your rest."

"I figure now that you're awake to watch Cael, I could go swimming…" She trailed off, fumbling with the net in her hands. Annie thought she would feel better if she did something else familiar, seeing as tying knots helped ease her mind so much. It was easy to be in an alliance when she forgot it would probably be Hollis killing her off. Annie's eyes darted towards the water, glimmering welcomingly to her in the sunlight. Little waves rose and fell with the gentle current. It was where Annie wanted to be. "To wear myself out a bit more before I sleep again…?"

He looked to the water and back to her face. "Alright, District Four. Just be careful." Hollis retreated to sit back on a root that enclosed the burrow. He faced the forest with his back towards Annie and the river, shoulders hunched over tiredly.

When Annie was sure that he wasn't looking, she slipped from her pants so she was left in only her underthings. Her jacket had been used as a bandage over Cael's wound, and while the clothes were slick and didn't absorb water, it didn't reflect body heat anymore when she washed it out in the river in the middle of the night. Annie wasn't sure if the temperature would remain this warm through the Games, because she would be perfectly fine if it did, but if it changed in the slightest the blanket was only big enough to wrap around her shoulders; she would need her pants to reflect the heat properly if it got colder. She crouched on the edge of the riverbank, waves lapping at her toes. Kicking off her shoes, Annie dove into the water.

Chilled water stiffened her skin and muscles once she was submersed. The river wasn't that deep, but Annie was safely above the rocky bottom. She fought against the tug and suck of the water to break the surface. Gasping for air, Annie smiled into the sun. Swimming had never felt so good. The familiar, instinctive movements she used to keep afloat relaxed her muscles. While she was tired, Annie felt that she could have treaded water for hours.

From his perch, Hollis was clapping. He appeared genuinely impressed. Annie's first reaction was to cover herself, seeing as she was in such little clothing, but then she remembered he couldn't see under the water. "Ten out of ten, District Four!" he called to her, a smile in his voice.

"You're going to wake Cael!" she whispered fiercely to him. Her head bobbed above the waves and she fought to keep from swallowing mouthfuls of water. Annie sank under the waves again, appreciating the feel of the current on her skin more than ever. She emerged again moments later for air and then began paddling around on the surface. She was enjoying herself more than she ever expected to, which was bad when she really thought about it, considering that she was in the Arena.

Annie thought back to the last time she was swimming. It was the day of the reaping and she was sick from stress. Her brothers had taken her out on the water, and though they told the Peacekeepers that kept tabs on the marina it was for fishing purposes only, they had no intentions of working. Fletcher meant to cheer his sister up. When they were far enough out in the bay, where the waves were rocking the boat instead of just lifting it, Vance held her hand and they jumped off the back into the water. She was weak from the lack of sleep and didn't last that long, especially since she hadn't eaten anything either. After only a few minutes of swimming, she climbed back into the boat due to exhaustion and watched as her brothers continued to enjoy themselves. Soon, the way the boat was being thrown about on the water was making her sick, and she nearly passed out under the grey sun. Fletcher brought them all in and fetched a doctor for her, who gave her something to calm her through the reaping which she dreaded so much. Annie felt so guilty now; she should have stuck it out longer because her brothers were happy that morning.

She propelled herself back to shore slowly, exhaustion beginning to wear out her muscles. Annie dragged herself back onto the bank and washed the sand out from beneath her toes. She rose to her feet again when she saw Hollis had turned to the forest again and rung out her dark hair. The warm breeze had her dry in only minutes and she then slipped back into her clothes and the blanket around her shoulders. Annie decided that it wasn't a good idea to attempt fishing when she looked back at the river, for it was deeper than she thought and thus would require more energy. She retreated into the burrow and rested against the tree trunk, watching the water happily.

Cael stirred beside her. In his sleep, he pressed her jacket into his abdomen and gritted his teeth. When he pulled his hands away, Annie saw the blood that had been drawn out of the fabric. It may have deflected the rain, but it absorbed blood like no one's business. Cael shifted, curled into the fetal position, and faced away from her.

"It's funny how you won't let me see you without clothes on, but the rest of Panem isn't a problem," Hollis shrugged. He turned to look over his shoulder at her, a grin sneaking onto his lips, grey eyes flashing. "First the pictures and now every camera in this Arena."

Annie blushed furiously with embarrassment. He always seemed to say just the thing to remind her that she was having a 'fling' with Finnick, probably because he suspected the whole thing was a fake. However, Annie knew that it was anything but. Finnick's poem would have been too cruel of a thing to do if it was fake, which didn't seem like him at all. She ran her fingers over the ring he gave her, thinking about how she had confessed her love for him to all of the cameras in the Arena. "I'm sorry," she muttered. The interviews reminded her that she wasn't the only one separated from someone she loves.

"What for?" Hollis had completely let his guard down now and turned away from the forest. If a Career were to be anywhere near them, they wouldn't stand a chance because they wouldn't see them coming. He looked at her, puzzled.

"Britte," she said, hoping that was the correct name. Annie's memory wasn't serving her well as of late. "Here I am, desperately missing a man I met a week ago and you've got a fiancé in Twelve…" Anxiously, Annie ran her fingers through her thick brunette hair, brushing it over her shoulders.

"She knows I love her," was his only response. Moments later, the mood picked up. Hollis' eyes brightened and he looked at her mischievously. "What'd your brothers think about the whole thing with your mentor?"

Annie shook her head. She had forgotten that she told Hollis about all of them in training; how Fetcher lost his sweetheart to the Games, Vance and his rants about the Capitol, Nero spending his entire winter searching for work in the market because the thought of a fisherman's life disgusted him, Penn and his secret girlfriend that he hid from everyone but her, and Spensa who couldn't say goodbye to her. She was an open book. "I don't know what they're thinking," she said honestly. "I hope they are happy that I was happy with him, but they are probably blowing out of proportion. Making it something it wasn't in their heads and then getting angry defensively." It seemed like a good response.

"I honestly thought the whole thing was a fake in the beginning," he admitted, confirming Annie's suspicions. She didn't know why it mattered so much to her that he saw the truth behind it. "But there is no way he would take it as far as the interviews if it wasn't."

"Yeah…" Annie gazed off into the morning light. She thought to Finnick, how she had been amazed by his beauty and how she saw home in him, and grew sorrowful. Her eyes drooped sadly. She touched the ring again. She had left him in the Launch Room with a question on his lips, now she was dying to know what it had been.

Her head snapped up when she heard a cannon fire. She scanned the Arena for Careers, assuming that they were near, and shrank back instinctively, warily, when she didn't find them. Annie watched a Capitol hovercraft fly overhead and disappear over the trees. She heard it fade away and assumed the death was farther away than she thought – which relieved her greatly.

"That's fifteen now," said Hollis, unmoved. His eyes had deadened again. "There were fourteen killed yesterday at the bloodbath alone, over half of the tributes."

It was too many for Annie to bother asking who they all were. The Careers were definitely alive, which is why it was essential they slept in shifts, and that's who Annie was worried about. Instead, she said, "Anyone worth noting?"

"Hardly." He shrugged, as if that was enough of an answer. "You gonna sleep now?"

Annie nodded, closing her eyes.

It was ironic how her mind brought her happy things while she slept. Things weren't even bad in the Arena yet, she hadn't witnessed any slayings or been attacked, she was safe with Hollis on watch for her. Of course, she was worried about keeping Cael alive, but they had all accepted that he was going to die before the night was out with the gash in his stomach… Still, she wasn't wrecked with nightmares while she slept.

"Annie." Finnick said her name in the loveliest way, which was perhaps the best part of her dream. "Annie, we're going back to Four today. Annie, we are going swimming today. Annie, do you want to go to the square with me? Annie, I think that we should go to the beach." They held hands throughout the entirety of her dream. Other familiar faces flickered in and out, smiling, bringing life to the fantasy; her brothers, her parents, Mags, Rayne and Calypso all made appearances. When she woke, the content happiness had settled into her so comfortably that it took her several moments to process the pack of Careers standing around their burrow.

From One, Mira the twelve-year-old and Pascal the eighteen-year old. From Two, Maroon the sixteen-year-old and Iem the fourteen-year-old. From Four, Rayne Saltwood, as monstrous as ever, staring her down at his grip tightened around a spear. Annie's heart sank. Her family's faces flashed through her mind, and then Rayne, and then Calypso, and then Finnick and Mags. She scanned the Careers again and reached for Cael, bringing him close.

Annie's eyes darted to Hollis, sitting at Iem's feet, body curled around a spear. His head hung limply over his chest, hiding his face. A small squeak escaped her lips in shock as she realized it had been his cannon that had woken her.

"What are we going to do with her?" asked Pascal, cropped platinum hair practically glowing in the light. Annie was losing her sense in her panic; she was yanking Cael onto her lap protectively without thinking of his injury. His eyes fluttered open in distress. He cried out when he saw Hollis as well. The Career looked to Rayne. "It's your call, Rayne."

"Well," grunted Rayne, folding his arms over his broad chest. Somewhere, in the back of both Annie's and Rayne's minds, they both knew their mentors were holding their breath. "He's dead on his own–"

"I cut him!" giggled Mira. Her eyes rolled into her head and back again. Annie cringed. This was what she was going to die looking at. Annie was going to die. Pascal smacked the back of the girl's head.

"And she'll just drive herself mad," he finished dismissively, waving her off. Annie threw herself back against the rough tree trunk in shock. Her strong pulse was deafening her, but she could have sworn that he just made an excuse for her to live. Rayne couldn't kill her. "I think it'd be more entertaining for the Capitol to watch her go insane and it'd keep the Gamemakers off our asses for longer."

There were murmurs of agreement. "Get a good look at him!" squealed Mira, kicking Hollis' corpse in the back. "This could've been you, District Nine!"

Cael was shaking in Annie's arms. She couldn't tell whether it was from fear or mourning or anger. He buried his face in her stomach, hiding his eyes against the blanket. The girl couldn't remove her eyes from her friend's corpse. Her mouth hung open.

The Careers disappeared into the woods, with Rayne trailing behind them. Annie watched them leave with shock and disbelief glazing her eyes. She felt so empty. Not only was the loss unsettling, but so was the sight of his dead body. She and Cael hid their faces as the hovercraft appeared overhead and reached down to retrieve Hollis' body.

Nothing was real except for the cruelty of the Games. Annie, in the back of her tortured mind, was listening to Vance rant about how the Capitol rips kids from their families and throws them into the Arena, expecting them to fight to the death. She thought of Britte, who was sitting somewhere in District Twelve, forced to watch the spearing of her fiancé on television and how her own mourning was nothing compared to that girl's. Soon, Annie wasn't mourning the expected death of Hollis; she was hoping that Britte would be alright – since she was the only one involved that had a chance at living. Annie's thoughts drifted to the wounded boy in her arms, and how much longer it would be before she had to watch his death as well.

Annie gave herself the simple task of sitting upright, since even that seemed impossible to do without motivation. Cael seemed to have taken what Mira said to heart and embraced it, sitting up without hesitation and without care that he ripped open his healing wound again. The pair faced each other in the burrow, eyes sad and saying the words their mouths could not.

"You can leave me now," Cael offered. He peeled her jacket off of the gash in his stomach and gave it to her. "You can take your things and go. You've got a better chance of making it than I do…"

"No!" she said, eyes growing fierce. Annie grabbed his hand. "I can't leave you! I won't leave you." She would feel guilty if she left him, she knew she wouldn't be able to take knowing that she abandoned him while he was dying. But could she stay and watch him die? Was that any better? "I hate all of this!"

Cael hung his head, squinting tears from his eyes. It was taking a much greater toll on him than it was on Annie. She wiped away the tears from his cheeks. They sat in silence for the longest time. Annie thought of Finnick to keep from truly going mad.

* * *

><p>Finnick watched as Annie broke down. She and Cael, who was deteriorating irreversibly now, slept off most of the time after Hollis' murder after deciding to take advantage of the Careers sparing them. In her sleep, she sobbed and screamed, sometimes for Hollis, other times for her brothers, but most of the time for him. His heart swelled painfully with longing each time he heard her call for him. He knew that he needed to be there to help her, but there was nothing to be done. Not yet, at least.<p>

"She'll get through," Mags reassured, patting his hand. They sat in the Mentors' Quarters together, each with their eyes glued to the television sets around the room. Twenty-four televisions were installed into the walls, each displaying the actions of one tribute. Sixteen screens were blacked out and most of the mentors had cleared out to return to their districts. The first night was over with, but the 'best' of the Games were still to come. "You know she will."

"You need to have more faith in Rayne," Finnick muttered to her. Annie was calling for him again and he could hardly concentrate on anything other than that.

Mags shook her head. It had been quite some time since she had accepted the fact that there was no way his alliance was going to let him live. District Four's hope for a victor was placed in Annie this year, ironically. "Annie means more to you than Rayne does to me," she said. "As sad as it is, it's true."

"Did you give up on him?" asked Finnick, growing slightly worried. Mags never gave up on anyone, not even after all of these years mentoring kids. She normally expected them to return, that's how she treated him. "Did you give up on him, Mags?"

The old woman shook her head. "No." She flicked off the television. "I don't want you listening to her."

Finnick's eyes widened. Annie had been calling his name in her sleep, and while it killed him every single time, he needed to hear it. With the screen black, she could be dead. He turned to her. She spoke before he could.

"I don't want you listening to her," she repeated. A tear dribbled down Finnick's cheek and she wiped it away. "Last night, Fin, and then she's pretty much won."

* * *

><p>The Cresta house sat upon the edge of the cliff, overlooking the rumbling ocean below. It was drowning in sunlight and warm spring breezes, yet the life that normally kept its walls energetic had quickly diminished over the course of a week. Mrs. Cresta spent her days curled in bed, dreading having to go to the square to watch the Games with the rest of the district, while Mr. Cresta was out with his fishing crew in the bay just to escape his cruel reality. No one touched Annie's small corner of the house, they wouldn't dare. The rickety porch was the only other place that housed any stirrings. The boys sat out, watching the sun. Vance had done the math so they were perched at the angle directly away from the Capitol, watching the waves roll in sadly.<p>

Fletcher had nearly lost it several times since Annie had been taken away on the day of the reaping. He was making his own suffering worse on himself, just because of everything that he had already forced himself through. His forehead rested against one of the splintering posts that supported the awning. Quiet words were muttered under his breath angrily.

Spensa, who kept mostly to himself, was perched on the railing. Nero leaned beside him. Together, they were entirely silent as they lost themselves in watching the waves. With aching hearts, they each hoped to hear their sister trudging back to the house, announcing her return from the market. She had been so proud of herself when she gained the confidence to go into town by herself, no longer frightened of the commotion.

Penn hadn't been seen by the brothers for days, not since the day of the reaping. He took one step into the house to shut himself in and found himself walking into one of the nets Annie was mid-way through finishing. After that, he had bolted from the house and spent his time with his girlfriend – they only knew this because she had contacted them to say he was alright, that she was taking care of him. Wrecked with guilt, upon many other things, they supposed.

Vance rested in the grass. His eyes were focused on the whitecaps of the waves, but instead he saw the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. He saw his sister darting from the metal plate straight for the fights, hardly escaping in one piece. She must have been blinded by fear and adrenaline because she didn't even notice the girl from One aiming for her heart with a spear, because she didn't notice her or when the blade sank into the skin of the boy from Nine behind her. That wasn't something his sister would do, but Vance was glad that she hadn't paid it any mind and gotten away safely. He dug his fingers into the soil, clenching fistfuls of grass as the scene replayed again and again before his eyes.

In his lap were nets. Glancing at them now, he could hardly tell what was special about them, they looked just like any other nets you would find along the coast of District Four, but when held up they were more significant. When Vance held them up and it fell open, he could see the careful ties that Annie had made. Not a single knot was fraying, that's how certain his sister's work was, even after a year. Vance found them in a heap at the side of the house, crusted with salt water from times of use. He took them with him almost everywhere now – even though everywhere consisted of his bedroom and the square and the porch.

Annie's laugh echoed in his ears. Her smile kept even the darkest corner of his mind sane. The memory of her warmed his heart. Vance could have spent his time mourning her, but instead he wished her dead. He wanted her suffering in the Arena to be over with. She had always been such a happy girl, very childish and innocent, and he didn't want to see that side of her tarnished. Vance wanted her hurting to be done.

He ran his fingers through the nets, tugging at the thin ropes that held like wire. Vance's heart was panged with sorrow. Annie. Annie. Annie. His sister. He wanted her home, yet he wanted her dead. What the hell was he thinking?

"What time is it?" asked Nero, voice hollow and removed. They all knew what he meant, he was counting down the awful minutes until the time when they had to go into the market square and watch the recap of the Arena's events. He glanced up for a slight second, scanning his brothers.

Vance shrugged. "Who knows?" He clutched the nets in his hands, releasing their salt water scent into the air that wafted into his nose. His vision broke away from the bloodbath and he caught a glimpse of the gloomy ocean.

The brothers sank into silence again. The only sound amongst them was the rise and fall of the waves, sounding something like a slumbering creature. Vance felt heavy. He released a long, exasperated sigh. In the distance, they all could see other District Four citizens excitedly rushing from their homes and work places to the square to see the Games broadcast. It sickened Vance.

Light footsteps padded across the rickety floorboards. A small girl with dark hair and bright eyes appeared behind Vance. He turned to look at her. "I don't want to go," Calypso whispered. It was basically all she had said since she had begun living with the Cresta family. "Your mother doesn't want to go either."

"No one does," Vance replied. He patted the ground beside himself, offering the girl a seat. She had fit in nicely with the rest of them; they formed quite the makeshift family since the Games had begun. She cried herself to sleep every night and normally woke from nightmares screaming her brother's name. Last night was the first night that she slipped in bed between his parents and slept soundly since the reaping. She was not replacing Annie, but Vance felt less pained knowing they were helping her. Calypso crashed into his lap instead, crushing the nets. She was so frail, so tiny – she would tip the scales at fifty pounds soaking wet, even for living in District Four. Vance's arms fell protectively around her. "No one does."

"One of them is going to come home," muttered Spensa with a blank, distant expression. The waves and sunlight were reflected in his eyes. He had to say it like that just because everyone knew he was talking about Rayne, but Annie was still alive. The entire district could see the makings of a victor in him. "The mayor says Mags, his mentor, is already writing his victory speech and tribute to Annie."

Fletcher screamed.

* * *

><p>Annie called Finnick's name again in her sleep, stirring in the burrow beside Cael. Her fingers brushed against the ring on her left hand and she was instantly calmed. In the sky above her, Hollis' face was shining down upon them.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>I nearly broke down writing this chapter, so I hope it lived up to what I want it to be. I did so much writing practice beyond what I have posted for this story, mostly to define characters more distinctly, and I have grown very attached to Hollis. I hope that all of you feel the same.<strong>

**Thank you to all of my reviewers/followers/favoriters! I sincerely appreciate you all. And I don't want to sound ungrateful, but it felt like I did something wrong because not many people reviewed. I want to know what you guys think so I can improve, without reviews that won't happen! Please let me know what you thought!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten **

**Where Annie goes on an emotional roller coaster.**

* * *

><p>Annie wanted nothing more than to distance herself from Cael the next morning; however a guilty conscious and his pleadings for her to stay kept her around. She couldn't look the boy in the eye, she could hardly address his wound, but Cael stuck around. He insisted that he be dragged out of the burrow and laid at the riverbank, where she spent her morning and afternoon swimming. She held his hand while she fed him the last of the apple slices for lunch.<p>

The water was like bathwater from the Capitol, warm and relaxing. It was also like the salt water of home in the sense that it was wide enough for her to swim in. Annie could function properly while she swam, though she didn't exert energy trying to fish in the deep water. She watched Cael dip his toes into the water timidly as she dived up and down amongst the waves. The Arena disappeared before her eyes as she was in the water. She didn't feel happy anymore because of the familiarity; she felt content – which was more than Annie could ask for.

"I wish I knew how to swim," mused Cael absentmindedly, watching the lapping waves. The water was reflected in his blue eyes in such a sense that rang of District Four. His hands were pressed over his abdomen, holding together his wound. "There isn't a chance to learn in District Nine."

"I wish I could teach you," gurgled Annie, spitting out mouthfuls of water. Her head bobbed above the waves as she treaded along the surface and kicked towards him, hair splaying out and flowing over the waves. Her eyes were stuck to the bloody, crusty gash in his stomach. Her stomach rumbled uncomfortably, though it wasn't due to hunger. "You would be so good at it."

His eyes brightened and he sat straighter. "You really think that?" asked Cael, voice growing more enthusiastic. He sounded better now than Annie had ever heard him. Grass around him rustled in the breeze, creating a beautiful surrounding for this dying boy.

Annie propelled herself to the sandy, flooded banks and hoisted herself ashore. She splayed out beside him in the grass; warm sunlight washed over her skin and instantly began to dry her. Her fingers searched for Cael's in the grass and she comfortingly began to stroke his palm. In a vague sense, she was reminded of each of her brothers when she was with this boy, yet it wasn't terribly difficult to watch him die. She breathed in slowly and exhaled even slower, feeling the air enter and leave her lungs. This wasn't the Arena. This wasn't the Arena. This wasn't the Arena…

"Of course I think that," she confirmed, smiling towards the sky with her eyes closed. The breeze danced across her skin gently, bringing her to a comforting world that was a parallel to District Four. Annie missed the scent of the salt water air more desperately now. "I haven't met a single person that couldn't at least tread water once they started learning."

"At least the work in your district is fun," sighed Cael, voice carried by the wind. "I spend my day in a processing factory so the grain we produce is good enough for the Capitol."

Annie took a moment to draw that in while she drowned in the warm breeze. She couldn't imagine being cooped up in an old, run-down factory all day while she was expected to sit back and do her work quietly. At the marina, where she made and tried to sell her nets after and before school, she had the freedom to put down her work and go for a swim if she pleased. The Peacekeepers had set up the law some time ago that women weren't allowed to go out fishing like the men, so they didn't mind as much when Annie needed to relieve stress. She sat up, listening to the crack of her spine as each vertebrae popped. "I can't imagine that."

"The Peacekeepers are nice, though, or at least they are to me." Cael's voice was giving out, he was almost inaudible now. He was panting. Annie hoped it was just because of the wind, drowning out his volume, but when she saw him clutching his abdomen rougher than ever she knew that it couldn't be. His fingers were slicked with fresh blood; he had started bleeding out again. Somehow, she knew that this was it. Annie forcefully gulped back the bile that was collecting in the back of her throat and scooted closer to him, bringing him down to rest in her lap. His forehead was sickly cold and pale, his skin had lost all color. She ran her pruned fingers through his hair, trying to warm his skin. "You're going to get home, right?"

She nodded, watching his eyes brighten and dull with his dying strength. Annie could feel the tears swelling in her eyes and she hoped that they would be hidden by the water droplets that still clung to her face. She was more terrified of watching this boy die than accepting his death. "I am going to get home," confirmed the girl. Her eyes darted from his face to her ring and back to his face.

Cael had no color left at all. The blood that had drenched his body was now seeping down onto her skin. Annie cringed at the feel of the hot red liquid. "If you ever see District Nine, tell them I was happy to be your ally. I don't want them to think that District Four is so bad anymore."

"Of course." Annie wouldn't remember that, she was just saying what the boy needed to hear. She was crying now, breath hitching helplessly. Her palm rested on his forehead and he tried to smile at her. It was so unfair, he was just a kid.

"Annie, please don't cry," he pleaded, eyes dulling and beginning to slide shut. "I really didn't want to win anyway; my mom said the ones who die in the Arena are the lucky ones anyway. I'm going to be fine."

"You're going to be dead." Annie ducked her head. Her tears dribbled onto his cheeks. She held him closer. His pulse was no longer radiating through his sick skin, worrying her. There was no turning back. She pressed her hand over his heart. _Thump… … Thump… … Thump… …_ It was growing weaker with every beat.

"I'm going to be fine," he repeated, never before sounding more childish. Cael's brilliant blue eyes faded as they slipped shut. He sucked in a last breath through slightly parted lips. His heart now felt hollow. Annie shrieked, throwing her head back, sobbing. The boy's body fell limp in her arms.

Cael's cannon sounded.

Annie was frozen as she sat by the riverbank, still holding onto the boy's corpse. The breeze rustled the leaves in the trees looming overhead and the spring green grass, harmoniously complimenting the sound of the rushing river at her feet. Sunlight poured down on her, washing her in warmth. She was shaking and could feel her skin bubbling in the heat. In the distance, Annie could hear the Capitol hovercraft zooming into the Arena towards her. Cael's corpse slipped from her lap and she crawled away from the spot.

She kept her back turned as the Capitol cleared Cael from the Arena. The girl commanded herself to retreat to the burrow, though instead of curling up and crying like she had with Cael after Hollis was killed, she gathered her things into her backpacks and stole away from the sight. When the hovercraft had disappeared again, she slung the packs over her shoulder and dragged her feet along the riverbank as she forced herself to move on. She didn't want to leave her nest, she didn't want to be alone like she thought she had. Annie felt empty inside without them, she had been more attached to them than she thought she was. It was horrifying now to think of facing the Arena on her own. Annie kicked her balled-up, blood-drenched jacket into the river as she walked away from the site.

Shivers rocketed down her spine in the breeze. She had grown more sensitive to everything, even the slightest noise. Annie now immediately assumed it was the Careers. She trudged along the riverbank, clothed in pants and underthings, with her skin crawling. Her mind was like a beehive, swimming with thoughts that all blurred together to create an irritating buzz. She couldn't pick out one specific thought if she tried her hardest. She just walked forward, unsure of what else she could do.

She thought of Finnick. Annie meandered along; following the riverbank into the thick of the forest where plants climbed up the trunks and the ground was disrupted by thick roots. She somehow found sanity thinking of her mentor, and he kept her from doing something rash like running off to find Rayne. Her fingers brushed the silver band around her finger longingly. Her mind was kind to her and replayed their last day together for her, minus the fear of entering the Arena. She pretended she was holding his hand to calm himself, and not for the familiarity of home, because she wanted to be with him.

The river eventually dipped down a cliff when the forest broke off. Annie wasn't going to attempt to climb down the rocky slope, so she decided to just rest there. It was far enough away that nothing, even though it was practically the same, reminded her of her small sense of contentment with Cael and Hollis. She contemplated heading back into the forest for more concealment, but after spending all afternoon hiking through the woods, she decided that she liked the openness. Annie placed her packs at the base of a tree trunk and stretched out her tense shoulders, breathing in the sweet scent of the air.

Over the cliff, which sloped to the ground thirty feet below, Annie could see the Careers' camp. Her heart skipped a beat. There was a tent the size of a decent Capitol bedroom and was clearly made of the same material as her blanket, so it reflected body heat. Beside it, a stack of crates filled with food and other supplies. She couldn't see the Career pack, though she could be certain that they weren't far.

After she conquered the initial fear of the Careers, Annie thought that setting up her own camp on the edge of the cliff, looking down on them, might be smart. They couldn't climb up the steep cliff, not quickly at least, so that would give her time to run away and she could keep tabs on them. They could spend the rest of the Games searching the Arena for her and she would be right here. Annie grinned madly at the idea.

She returned to thinking of Finnick when she slumped back against the tree trunk, pulling her packs into her laps. Her mind was set at ease. However, when she exhaustedly slipped into a light sleep, her mind was wrecked with nightmares. She watched the life fade out of Cael on repeat, like a broken record that they played in the square at home for special occasions. Annie woke in the middle of the night, staring at the pitch sky with tears staining her cheeks. She was horrified, worried that her cries may have been heard by the Careers. When she realized she wasn't threatened, Annie relaxed.

The girl crawled to the riverbank, which had receded slightly, dragging a backpack along behind her. She splashed the water into her face to wash away her dried, sticky tears. Annie pulled out a container of meat and peeled the lid off. Her stomach rumbled as she examined the contents for the first time. She plucked out a strip of Capitol bacon and treated herself to it happily. It tasted just as hot and juicy as fresh bacon had been in the Training Center. She tried not to drool while she ate. It was delicious.

Annie kicked off her shoes and dipped her toes into the rushing river. The current was stronger as it flowed over the cliff. She wriggled her toes under the surface of the water. Annie was finding mental peace in the simplest things now, especially after Cael's death. She needed to keep calm.

"It's going by fast," said a girl's voice. Annie's eyes widened in fear. It was the Careers returning to their camp at the base of the cliff. Annie glanced over the cliff, straining her neck, to see Mira and Maroon returning to their tent. "Soon they'll be after us, you know."

"We agreed we were going to kill off Rayne first," giggled Mira naïvely, as if that was reassuring. She twirled her spear around like a baton. "We can start worrying about it when that happens!"

Annie's heart dropped. _Kill off Rayne._

Maroon sighed and shook her head. "You don't understand," she screamed at the twelve-year-old. "We don't stand a chance against Pascal and Iem!"

Annie nearly passed out of shock. If there was anyone who she wanted to get back home at this point, it would be Rayne. She wanted to think he would fight back, since he was so driven to win at the Training Center. She packed her things into her backpack and retreated from the riverbank hastily.

She was panicking, trying desperately not to fall a victim to her own fear. Annie was seeing now that she was too close to the Careers. She needed to get away. She needed to find another safe spot. But where? The river ran right past them and she wouldn't _dare _return anywhere near her old hideout with Cael and Hollis. Annie's mind was spinning in circles. Instead of running like some kind of maniac, she ducked behind a thick-trunked tree, gathering her things with her. She watched the cliff like a hawk, as if waiting for the Careers to emerge over the top.

After what seemed like hours, Annie found herself watching a small white parachute float down from the sky and land in the grass before her. It was meant for her, but she wasn't going to retrieve it because she had listened to all the rest of the Careers – not including Rayne, which made Annie worry what had happened to him – return to camp and she didn't want to be seen. Annie's heart sped up excitedly when she realized that the parachute must have been a sponsor's gift and therefore came from Finnick, and that thought alone was almost enough to make her leap from her hiding spot to grab the thing.

The Capitol seal illuminated the dark sky and the anthem began to boom loudly throughout the Arena. Annie watched the four Careers line up outside of their tent, backs to her, noses turned toward the sky impatiently. They waited for the faces of the day's victims to be shown. She took that as an all-clear signal and darted from her crouch to the field at the edge of the cliff to retrieve the parachute and the gift it carried.

With all of her Arena-belongings in hand and the parachute with the gift, Annie sprinted into the forest, in the opposite direction of both the river and the Careers' camp. She crashed to her hands and knees on the forest floor, panting heavily, dropping her things around her. Brushing the matted leaves and twigs from her sweaty palms, Annie turned over to sit properly while she regained her breath. She reached for the parachute and the basket it held with numb fingers and pulled it into her lap. The anthem was still booming in the Arena and the sky was lit faintly with the seal. Annie was plenty safe now, but the seal posed for better concealment.

And, honestly, she didn't want to see Cael's face in the sky anyway.

Then it hit her, what if Rayne's face was in the sky as well? He wasn't with the others.

Annie pulled the thing from its container cautiously, throwing both the parachute and the basket aside. She stared at it curiously, unsure of what to make of it. It was black and rectangular, about as thick as her wrist, and sliced in several places on what she assumed to be the front uniformly. An antenna of sorts stuck out from the side of it, blinking violet. She rotated it, swapping it between her hands for quite some time as she examined it. Annie didn't have a name for what this was or any idea as to how it would be of any use to her.

The Arena silenced again as the anthem ended, leaving nothing but the sound of the rustling leaves in the night's breeze to cover her desperate panting. Annie's muscled were strained and exhausted; she didn't feel that she would ever recover. She tightened her grip on the plastic thing, worried that it would slip from her sweaty grasp. She brought it closer to her face, trying to see it better since the little light she had faded away.

A fuzzy crackling sound came from inside of the thing, the outer plastic shell vibrated. Annie threw it out of her hands in shock, terrified that one of the Careers had heard it make that strange noise. The sound ended and picked up again. Annie crept over towards it, commanding her legs to carry her. It was painful, but she managed to crouch beside it to stare at the thing making the strange, unnatural sound.

"Annie."

Her eyes lit up. "Finnick!"

She scrambled to retrieve the thing from the ground at her feet. Annie's heart was beating excitedly. His voice was wrecked with worry, anyone could hear that, but it was Finnick nonetheless. Annie held the communicator close to her face, pressing the antenna against her lip. She scanned the Arena – the trees and the bushes and the ground – for cameras, despite knowing they were too well hidden for her to ever catch a glimpse of.

"Hello, lovely," he said, wearing a smile in his voice.

"How did you–? Why did you–? What–?" Annie stumbled through unfinished questions awkwardly. "Finnick!"

"You seem to be doing fairly well on supplies and it was easy to see that you needed someone to talk to more," he explained. Annie settled against a tree, a torrent of peace sweeping through her, washing away panic. She wanted to listen to him talk for hours. Suddenly, Rayne's comment about driving herself mental rang through her mind; she surely knew Finnick meant the same thing. "This is your one and only gift for the Games, but I think it evens out the fact that I am allowed to generally guide you through this. It's been cleared with every one of the Gamemakers and second-in-command to President Snow for me to talk with you."

"It was those pictures," Annie gasped in realization. That's what they were for. A light sparked in her head. "That's why…"

"It was planned between Mags and I from the start, though I suppose we could have mentioned it to Gossamer," Finnick confirmed. "I had to pull a few extra strings to get this to you, so I hope–"

"Finnick!" she spat happily, cutting him short. Emotions were swirling inside of her like a whirlpool, slowly consuming her heart with blithe. She couldn't ask for anything more. Annie felt like a child, switching from one emotion to the next in the blink of an eye. She looked around for the cameras again; there was no receiving end to the communicator, so she assumed that's how Finnick heard her end of the conversation. "Finnick, I…"

"I know." He seemed to know everything. The ring around her finger felt comfortably warm, but more prominent than ever. "Annie." Finnick's voice was suddenly commanding, a drastic change from his usual seductive purr that kept Annie listening. "I need you to pick up your things and go to your left until you get to the clearing."

She did as she was told, though it took Annie a moment to collect herself and remember which hand was her left. Eventually, though, she could follow through with her task. She kept waiting for Finnick to say something. He was silent until she was standing at the edge of the forest, looking into the clearly. Stars shown down on the golden horn, the Cornucopia, and when she saw it, Annie's breath hitched. She didn't want to be back here. Images of Cael being sliced open flashed through her mind, even though she hadn't witnessed the event. She felt the scraping of Career weapons against her calves and forearms and shivered, trying to shake away the feelings. She stood frozen, watching the night.

"Annie." Finnick's voice was smooth again as he prepared to coax her into moving forward. Her expression was nothing short of horrified, and they both knew why. "Trust me, just go ahead."

_Trust me._ Annie couldn't refuse that. She ignored the pain in her limbs and did as she was told, cautiously moving around the Cornucopia. The stars embedded in the night sky provided just enough illumination for her to see without tripping over her own feet. She eased herself into the situation when she thought that she was safe, assuming that she was alone. Annie clutched Finnick's communicator.

"What now?" she whispered to no one.

"Now we're a team," said Rayne, emerging from behind the Cornucopia. Annie's heart leapt into her throat in shock. How hadn't she seen him before? "The three of us."

Annie stumbled back, dropping everything but the communicator. Her packs scattered at her feet, spilling their contents about the grass. Rayne quietly gathered everything back into the bags and handed them to her. He smiled reassuringly. Annie didn't know whether to trust him or not, but she had to since Finnick thought it would be a good idea. She didn't know how they planned it or what had been said, but she was beginning to feel grateful that they would do this. On top of that, Annie felt awfully guilty that they had to worry about her. Now she had more people to think about when she was killed other than her brothers.

"Lovely," Finnick cooed to her, which was instantly embarrassing now that Rayne was there to hear. Her cheeks burned crimson. Rayne's bright eyes flashed in the dim starlight as he bit back a grin. Despite that, Annie wanted to hear him call her that again. "Calm. This is why I couldn't tell you things sooner."

Annie nodded, gulping. Her eyes darted unsurely from Rayne to the communicator in her hands as she wondered what was going on. Finnick seemed to have more planned out than he ever lead on, or maybe she just hadn't been paying close enough attention. Whatever the case, no one could blame her. This was the Hunger Games they were talking about. "Alright," she whispered.

"Allies," said Rayne, extending his muscled hand to her. She stared at it for a long moment before he dropped it to his side again. Annie watched him retract his hand and noticed that his shirt was ripped open over his abdomen, just as Cael's had been.

"Allies," agreed Annie after what seemed like hours, eyes brightening. She was glad that she didn't have to feel so miserably alone anymore.

Finnick gave them orders to find a good camp spot – he suggested swimming to the far side of the river since none of the other tributes had the skills to reach them, and the pair acted on that. Rayne made two trips across the stream to carry the supplies above the water while Annie was extremely mindful as she tread the stretch of the water to keep the communicator above the waves. She spread the heat-reflecting blanket across the grass and he weighed down the corners with her backpacks. Rayne hadn't been able to steal much from the Careers' stash, but he had enough food to last him days to leave Annie her supplies. Finnick praised them on their success, which made Annie proud even though it was such a simple task to complete.

Rayne sat cross-legged, untying several of her previously-made traps only to retie them again, while Annie was lying beside him. The communicator was set beside her head and she folded excess fabric over her, instantly warmed by the ingenious Capitol fabric. She was calm as she listened to Finnick tell her stories, most of them about District Four at her request.

Soon, Rayne was asleep and snoring beside her. The pair had spent ten minutes debating whether it was safe enough for them to sleep at the same time until finally Finnick had said, if the safety of the river wasn't enough, the Gamemakers have seen enough action for one day and were most likely going to allow all of the tributes a night of rest. Annie was up until all hours of the night, unable to tune out Finnick's voice.

"I'm so worried about you, Annie," said Finnick when he was finished telling the tale of the time he bought out the bakery with Mags and sold cake to everyone in the market square. "You have no idea how hard it is for me to watch."

"I'm sorry." She didn't know what else she could say. Annie closed her eyes, breaking her gaze away from the starry night, and tried to picture his face as he spoke. She felt horrible that he had to be so concerned about her.

"I didn't tell you so you could apologize," he reminded her. "I told you because I..."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Because why?"

"Because I want you to know that I care about you."

She nearly bolted upright in pure shock. Annie couldn't have predicted that. She smiled sadly, tears swelling along the rims of her eyes. It almost felt like her body and mind was rejecting what he had said, she didn't want to hear it because she had already accepted her death. But, she was also certain that she felt the same way. She cared. Annie shivered and her words were caught in her throat. Breeze rolled across her skin and seemed to draw the words from her mouth. "Thank you, Finnick," she whispered. "I care, too."

It sounded horribly wrong. Her words were clipped like the Capitol accent. Annie had meant so much more than that…

"I love you," they said in unison.

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><p><strong>Seriously, guys? SIXTEEN favorites just from the last chapter? That is amazing, thank you all so much!<strong>

**Anyways, I could be happier with this chapter, but I still feel it turned out well. It seems as though I crunched two chapters into one here but whatever. Please let me know what you think! Comments and critiques are always welcome!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

**Where it falls apart.**

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><p>"You two are so cute," Rayne remarked as he dragged himself into the grassy riverbank. He glistened in the sunlight that beat down on them, sparkling with water droplets in the sunlight from his morning swim. He began to gut the three fish he had caught and Annie turned her eyes away, hiding her face. She didn't have the stomach to watch. He grinned at her knowingly, ignoring the blood on his hands. "You and Finnick – you're like children."<p>

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Annie dismissively, popping a strip of meat into her mouth. She had slept well at Rayne's side through the night, and while she was itching with anxiety, Annie didn't have the feeling swelling in her gut that her death was mere seconds away. Rayne was a walking sense of protection. She gulped down her food, shading her eyes with her hand. She and Finnick had been up talking while she watched over them and Annie had assumed that since Rayne looked to have been asleep, he hadn't heard what had been said.

"You two didn't know what to say to each other half the time," he smiled. Rayne tossed the bones of the fish back into the stream, seeing as the pair would have no use for them. He spoke with a shrill tone, trying to imitate Annie's voice. She couldn't even tell what he was saying, it was purely gibberish. Then, he spoke with the slight twinge of a Capitol accent that Finnick had as he repeated his words. Back and forth back and forth, repeating whole conversations. "Finnick. Lovely. Finnick! Lovely!"

"Rayne, stop tormenting the girl!" snapped Mags through the communicator. The signal was fuzzy and her voice crackled, though it was evident that she sounded sicker than when they had left her. The mentors had explained that they were back in the Training Center and both were allowed to communicate with them because of their alliance, Rayne knew that Finnick and Mags were sparing them the gritty details but Annie was happily oblivious. "Haven't you ever fancied someone?"

Finnick chuckled distantly in the background. It was a hollow noise, but rang like the old bells that clanged along with the wedding choir in song to Annie.

The girl blushed madly. Her eyes flickered toward the riverbank to see Rayne with small slabs of meat in the grass. Growing up tying nets at the docks and occasionally sailing with her brothers, it was amazing to Annie to watch Rayne's nimble fingers work adroitly to follow through with his task. She hated knowing that he was so better than her. She hated knowing he would win over her, but then she could think of him reuniting with his sister and he became more than a Career. Annie raked her fingers through her sweat-slicked, knotted mess of hair as she kept her eyes on him and the communicator in her lap. "Thanks, Mags," she reminded herself to say after a moment.

The longer Annie sat still, just watching the rippling grass in the breeze or the sunlight reflecting off of the water, the more her mind wandered. While she had spent the first few days of the Games escaping them by thinking of other worlds entirely, like home, she know was imagining the Capitol. She worried how her family would be treated after her death and if they would face any ridiculing in District Four, even if that was unheard of. The last family that was abused after their child was killed in the Arena 'deserved' it because their son had so grotesquely torn apart his victims and hid their severed corpses across the playing field. She shivered at the thought, but knew in the back of her mind it would be better for her to think of that than wonder what her brothers were doing at that very moment.

"Annie," snapped Finnick warily. The cameras were surely on them at the moment for he reacted in such a way to her distant and unreachable expression. He had to call her name several times, each getting more desperate than the one before, before she heard him. Her eyes flashed and she settled back into the Arena. "Talk with me."

She glanced to the communicator in her lap, outer plastic warm as it sat in the sunlight. Annie controlled her breathing carefully to synchronize it with the wind so she didn't drown in the breeze as she came down from her panic. She stammered, "Um, about what?"

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Rayne turned his back to them and hung his feet into the river. His bare skin was golden in the sunlight, his muscles tensed rigidly. He tried to close his ears to their conversation kindly.

"I'm fine," assured Annie. The shiny Capitol appeared in her mind with its swept, paved streets and the skyscrapers that stuck up into the puffy white clouds like an old children's book. In the blink of an eye the streets were overwhelmed with the waves of District Four and the clouds were dissolved to reveal the pale blue sky that blanketed the sea. Homesickness was swelling within her. One by one, people dotted the seashore. Classmates. Fishermen. Peacekeepers. Her parents. Her brothers. Finnick. Mags. Her fantasy grew deranged as Capitol residents began to appear; Gossamer, Caesar, President Snow. Even those she thought were decent, Octavia and Faye and Charmant. The Games. The sounding trumpet. The canons. Imagining Cael's and Hollis' faces in the sky. Imagining her own, illuminated above the Arena. District Four, she thought to herself sickly, District Four.

"Annie," said Rayne. "I wasn't kidding when I thought you might drive yourself mad."

The girl ran her fingers through the grass. "I'm sorry," she apologized.

"Today," said Mags, clearing her throat. She proceeded to give Rayne instructions as to what he needed to accomplish over the day's course. Most of it involved finding new sources of food, their stash was running low. The lull of the woman's words sound like a low roar to Annie. It was pretty, though Mags' voice gave way with some of her words.

"You can keep that with you," said Rayne, eyeing the communicator in her lap. Annie nodded. He waded into the river until his head was bobbing above the waves when he slipped under. Before she knew it, Rayne was walking out on the other side of the water, gripping one of her nets in his fist.

"Are you alright, Annie?" asked Finnick timidly.

"Yes," she breathed as she watched her ally disappear into the forest.

"Really?"

The girl shook her head. Bile rose in the back of her throat and tears rimmed her eyes. One even dribbled down her cheek. "No. Finnick, I hate this."

Silence hung in the air between them for the longest time. She listened to the breeze rustling the leaves and the grass while she waited to hear him speak. He was trying to piece his heart back together before he spoke, for he knew that he wouldn't be able to control his emotions otherwise. Both of them had grown heartsick.

"Annie, dear, breathe," Mags coaxed her sweetly. "You need to calm down. You're alright. You're getting there." Her voice was worn by something much more severe than worry or anxiety, it was babbling like she couldn't speak at all. Annie felt terribly nervous for her. "Breathe. Breathe." She ducked away from the speaker for a moment. "Finnick, she needs you. Calm down."

Annie nodded her head and curled into tight ball. Her thoughts swam, darting around her mind like fish in a pond. She tried not to pay any attention to them, but that was something much more difficult done than said. One of the most haunting made itself known. Fourteen-year-old Finnick with the trident poised just above his shoulder, net dangling from his other hand, sea green eyes gleaming as he watched his next victim wither to the ground of the Arena before him. She tended to forget that being a victor meant more than just surviving the Games. Annie shivered.

"Things can only get better," Mags reassured her. The woman must have assumed that she was still fretting about Cael and Hollis, which she was, but there was so much more to it. Annie couldn't look away from the horrific nightmares.

The girl nodded in agreement, her eyes were glued to the spot where Rayne had disappeared.

"Annie," he said her name with such adoration, such longing. "You're going to come home, you don't have anything to worry about."

Finnick's light tone made things better for her. She saw the sunlight pouring down on her and thought happily of home, remembering the good things instead of the bad. Her mind was unstable. She could now smile, knowing that District Four wasn't as miserable as she was.

"Okay, Finnick," said Annie, wiping her tears. Saying his name made her feel a bit better. "Okay."

The communicator buzzed, vibrating her fingertips. Annie stared at the thing curiously, wondering what it could mean. Her heart skipped a beat when she thought it might have thought its power. "Finnick!"

"What?" he asked, voice coming through just as certainly as ever. Relief crashed down upon the girl's shoulders and she sighed. "Annie, what?"

He didn't see anyone approaching, he didn't see anything wrong with her, so he must have thought her to be crazy. "I just…I just thought…it's nothing," she answered. Things were okay.

Well, as okay as things could in the Arena.

She laid back in the breeze, dark curls splayed out messily across the blanket. Annie closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel the heat of the sun washing over her face, her arms, her bare stomach. She hardly thought about why she didn't have her jacket anymore. Her hand rested over the communicator at her side and drew it close to her. Annie could relax, who aside from Rayne could swim?

Finnick took a moment to collect himself before he spoke again. He picked up from where he had left off the night before, painting her mind with stories that were so beautifully drawn out. His words were nothing less than perfect.

"Finnick," interrupted Annie halfway through a tale about him catching turtles off of the docks in the marina. She had a curious notion in mind that she remembered something, though she couldn't determine if it was something her mind had formulated or if it had been real. It was too clear for her to picture him sitting there with his legs dangling in the water, his father standing behind him with the net, and she had to question if she had been there. Real or not real, that was forever the question. "Did we…ever meet before the Games?"

He breathed. "I think we did, actually," he said unsurely. Finnick paused a moment and Annie wondered why. "I think I met you at the reaping once, a while ago."

"Oh." It was necessarily the answer she was looking for, but it was an answer. Annie tried to recall what he was talking about, fear, however, was all she could remember about any of the reapings – especially the recent one. "Just once?"

"Once we talked, I noticed you when you were around but nothing more than that," explained Finnick.

"Hm," said Annie. She wouldn't say she remembered any of that until he was reaped, that would have just been wrong to tell him. She couldn't say that she was still childishly terrified of him, not when she also knew she was in love with him. Her eyes fluttered open. The ironically cheerful blue sky was dotted with clouds here and there. "Sorry I interrupted, continue."

"She has just the best manners, doesn't she? It's two cute!" shrieked Gossamer somewhere in the background.

"Gossamer's there, too?" Annie asked, shocked. She should have expected as much.

"Yes," said Finnick. "But she isn't allowed to speak to you. She didn't get permission from President Snow like Mags and I did."

Annie sat up and stretched, tucking the communicator partially under her leg. She clenched her eyes shut, popping the vertebrae of her back. Tension was rung out from her muscles. She was about to lie back down when Finnick snapped at her.

"Annie. Stay calm. Hide the communicator."

She moved her leg completely over the communicator. Her heart dropped into her gut when she opened her eyes and she entirely stopped breathing. Walking along the far riverbank were the four Careers, kicking up sand as they went. Annie's eyes bulged from her head. It was as if no matter how much distance she thought she could put between herself and the Careers, they always seemed to meet up.

"What the hell are you doing over there?" demanded Pascal as he laid eyes on Annie, pointing her out to the others.

Mira's eyes widened. Iem flexed and looked as if he were about to dive into the river and swim over to her, but Maroon caught his shoulder. "Who are you kidding?" she demanded fiercely. "You can't swim!"

"Sunbathing," whispered Finnick, voice crackling with static from the communicator.

"Sunbathing!" called Annie across the river without falter. She sounded much more confident than she was. She felt a strange pang of satisfaction when she watched Pascal's face scrunch up in frustration.

"How'd you get there?" he asked, tone lightening. He was planning to play this for all it was worth.

"I swam," instructed Finnick under his breath. "I'm from District Four, remember?"

"I swam!" she announced. "I am from District Four, remember?"

Maroon chuckled. "She's got you there, Pascal. Maybe we should have kept her from the beginning, should've tried harder."

Pascal's threw his thick hand back at her, snapping her across the face. Maroon's cheek turned bright red and purple around where the base of his palm hit her. Annie cringed. In the red she could see Cael's gash, even though it was completely unrelated to this. She sucked in a desperate breath through her teeth.

"Calm down, lovely."

"Swimming is useless here!" Pascal roared. He broke off into an evil, unsettling laughter.

"It's keeping me safe from you, isn't it?" Annie beamed boldly without prompting.

"That's my girl," said Mags proudly as Finnick sighed.

Iem scowled at her. Mira's jaw about hit the ground and her eyes flickered in hatred. Maroon was masking her emotions well and stared at Annie with a blank expression. Pascal was clenching his fists and his shoulders were hunched forward angrily. "I swear, it's going to be me that takes you out!" he screamed.

Annie stared at him. Inside, panic streamed through her and her mind was unraveling. Finnick's words calmed her, kept her anchored. "Stay calm," he said repeatedly. "You're going to be fine."

"You haven't seen good ol' Rayne around have you?" asked Iem and wiped the scowl from his features, deciding to play along kindly.

"Lie," spat Finnick fiercely.

"Can't say that I have!" shrugged Annie dramatically. She was quivering uncontrollably. "I thought he was on your team!"

"So did we," growled Mira. She was an antsy child. She shifted her weight between her feet and darted in between the other Careers restlessly. The girl slithered around Maroon to stand in the shallow waves. "He ditched us yesterday, though."

"You left your camp to look for him?" asked Annie curiously.

"That was stupid," snickered Finnick.

"That was stupid," repeated the girl.

"Shhh!" sneered Mags in haste.

Annie's face turned embarrassingly red and she scolded herself under her breath. She willed the Careers just marching back off into the woods yet they remained directly before her on the opposite side of the river. Her heart was thundering in her chest, creating a storm out of her.

"We left our camp to kill him, actually," corrected Pascal with a terrifying grin that sent chills down Annie's spine. Rayne's face in the night sky flashed through her mind and she nearly blacked out. "So I don't think it'll be an issue."

"If you say so," drawled Annie weakly. Her voice had lost its power.

Out of nowhere, Mira's spear escaped her grasp and was hurling towards her. It easily cleared the river and Annie stared at it as it soared towards her, frozen.

"Duck!" Finnick commands in a powerful voice.

Annie throws herself into the ground, face in the dirt and the communicator digging into her fleshy stomach. The spear whirls over her head. Her heart doesn't stop pounding until minutes later when she finally gathers the nerve to sit up. The Careers scolded Mira for the waste of a weapon, for now they could never retrieve it. Annie hoists herself up, exhausted and drained from fear, but leaves the communicator on the ground. It was hidden by the overgrown grass.

"Take it," whispered Finnick.

Annie's eyes darted to the spear sticking out of the dirt. It had ripped the blanket. She wrapped her frail, shaking hand around it and yanked it from the ground. Cautiously, as if it was going to start acting on a mind of its own, Annie examined it at an arm's length away from herself. Growing comfortable with it, she began to twirl it around like a baton.

"Get it back, you idiot!" snarled Pascal, shoving the little girl into the water. She tried to get back on her feet but splashed helplessly in the waves. Pascal followed her into the water; he hoisted her above his head and threw her out as far as he possibly could. She struggled to tread water, let alone swim forward. Annie's heart ached for her, yet she obeyed Finnick when he said to stay put. Annie, Pascal, and Finnick all knew what was going to happen.

The Careers marched off after growing tired of watching Mira exert all of her energy. The girl floated on the waves, face dipping in and out of the water. Annie couldn't stand watching her. Despite Finnick and Mags warning her not to, Annie dove into the water and swam out to Mira.

The current was pulling down harder on her than normal, so Annie took the moment to appreciate how long Mira had made it without being sucked under. She sank below the waves and propelled herself with the current towards the girl. She reemerged at Mira's side. Desperately, the child threw her arms around Annie's shoulders. The adrenaline that coursed through her helped give her the strength she needed to pull the girl to the far shore. Annie dragged her into the grass. Mira began to cough and sputter, spitting up water, as the swimmer swam back to her camp.

When she walked ashore, Annie took the spear and held it up to Mira. The girl had stood weakly and held her drenched hair out of her eyes to look at Annie. "I'll be keeping this!" said Annie. Mira nodded and ran off.

When the child was gone, Annie brought the spear down over her knee, snapping it in half. She wasn't kidding anyone; she had no intentions to use it.

"You're too good for the Games, Annie," said Finnick sadly. "You've done nothing to deserve this hell."

"Thank you," was the only thing she thought to say. "Since you're kind of all-seeing, let me know what happens to Rayne, okay?"

"Oh, he's fine," piped Mags hoarsely. "The Careers are actually going in the opposite direction as him; you've nothing to worry about. I promise."

Annie nodded, starting to drift off again. She stared at the two splintered halves of the spear and wondered how she had been strong enough to snap it; it didn't make much sense to her. Absentmindedly, she rose to her feet again and gathered the pieces of the spear. She tossed it into the river, knowing that the Gamemakers would have to retrieve it some time.

She settled cross-legged on the blanket. Her stomach grumbled, which was strange since she had just eaten when Rayne had left. The fish meat he had stripped from the bones earlier were packed in an empty container and in her backpack, but she didn't reach for it. Instead, Annie scolded herself for having grown accustomed to eating the fine Capitol food in only a matter of weeks. She thought of what the people of District Four must think of her, longing for scrumptious food that the district could only dream of while they were just scraping by. A full meal on everyone's tables every day to keep their bellies full for the following day at sea never seemed to be enough. Annie laid back in the sunlight, ignoring her stomach's pleas.

"Annie," said Mags, drawing the girl's attention back to the communicator, "Rayne is on his way back."

She was relieved. Annie was simply relieved.

After the passing of several minutes, Rayne bounded through the trees, yelling excitedly. His face was bright and his eyes danced. He had just jumped into the water separating them when the light in the Arena flickered before going out entirely.

The noise remained – leaves rustled, waves lapped, grass swayed in the breeze, birds called, crickets chirped, and frogs croaked – but the entire Arena was black as pitch. She couldn't see a single thing. Annie nervously dug her fingernails into the dirt and screamed. "Finnick! Finnick! Finnick!"

"Annie! Hush! Annie, lovely!" he called to her. The communicator was a distant object in the grass at her feet. She couldn't reach it; it was a million miles away. "Annie! Annie!"

Rayne pulled himself from the waves. "Annie!" He pressed his hands down over her shoulders. She couldn't tell that he was there; she didn't see him before her. He could feel the girl's heartbeat through her skin. "Annie! You're fine, it's fine."

"Good afternoon, tributes of the Seventieth Hunger Games!" boomed Claudius Templesmith over the Arena. "I would like to cordially invite you all to the Cornucopia for a feast of sorts."

"Hasn't there been enough action for one day?" muttered Rayne under his breath.

"With only six of you left, I believe you are each itching for that final tool to bring you to victory," he continued, obnoxious Capitol accent lacing his words. "This is what you will find waiting for you. Enjoy finding your way in the dark – may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Rayne didn't hesitate for a single moment. "I'm off," he said. Annie didn't feel him dripping on her anymore and knew he was gone. The rhythm of the waves was disrupted as he dove back into the river. He was very impulsive.

"What do I do, Finnick?" she asked timidly, crawling towards the communicator in the grass. Annie craved his guidance, since he seemed to be the only one thinking things through. "What should I do?"

"Go after Rayne," he instructed. "But don't go to the feast. I don't think you'll find it worth it." He knows, he just wasn't allowed to say anything. President Snow was more cautious by agreeing to this than Finnick had led her to think. "Leave the communicator here, be careful."

"But, Finnick–" she protested.

"I'll be watching," he said.

Annie rose slowly to her feet. She crept towards the riverbank. It was terrifying swimming without being able to see where she was going and she didn't dare submerge herself completely. Pulling herself onto the other shore was exhilarating; knowing that she hadn't drowned was relieving. She walked with her arms stuck out in front of her, feeling for trees so she didn't slam into one. The Capitol was 'kind' enough to play the anthem at the Cornucopia, drawing the tributes to the open field. Annie managed to keep her stumbling to a minimum and only crashed into three trees before she reached the Cornucopia. Her eyes had slightly adjusted to the darkness and she could faintly make out the silhouettes of trees and people and the Cornucopia. She was hidden behind a tree, watching the shapes of the tributes circle the giant horn, inspecting the six packages placed around it.

The first sixty seconds of the Games were brought back to her as she watched the Careers and Rayne sprint in for their designated packages. Annie noticed that Mira, in particular, was staying clear of Rayne. She held her breath.

The feast at the Cornucopia was used to draw in attention, as Rayne had said earlier, and to bring the tributes into one area. Some years, they arrive to find actual food and others new weapons and such. The boxes taller than Annie was must have held something important, for each tribute was receiving one, though she couldn't imagine what was inside. She bit her lip as she watched the competition close in on itself. The Careers were now battling amongst themselves and tearing open packages, each searching for the one placed there for them.

Pascal's shining new ax buried itself deep in Rayne's calf, bringing him down to the ground. Surprisingly, her partner barreled out of the way just as the ax came down, burying itself in the grass where his head had been. Annie nearly passed out.

"Rayne!" she cried.

Pascal and Iem both dropped their fights and dashed for her while Rayne turned to her in shock. His eyes gleamed, screaming for her to run. Annie turned and ran as fast as she could until she was waist-deep in the river. She hadn't even realized she had run that far. When she turned back, Annie didn't see Pascal or Iem anywhere in sight and dared to return to Rayne. She wasn't going to let him go.

"Rayne!" she called, running hard, driven by fear. "Rayne Saltwood, where are you!" He wasn't at the Cornucopia and she began to truly panic. What if he had died? What if he had already been taken out of the Arena by the hovercraft? Why hadn't she heard the cannon?

All the way back at the Cornucopia, Rayne was curled up on the ground. He clutched his calves, holding the flaps of skin over his wounds. He looked so similar to Hollis; the only difference was that Rayne lacked the spear jutting out of his core. His bright eyes were already beginning to fade, she could see, just as Cael's had. Nightmares were running through her mind.

"You're not the mindless slut those pictures portrayed," observed Pascal. He stood over Rayne, ax poised for the chop, looming like the trees against the sky. His eyes were angry, impatient. "You saved Mira. You stupidly came back for him. You got any last words for him?" He kicked Rayne in the back.

Rayne grit his teeth in pain and pressed his eyes shut. Annie's heart broke watching him. She reached for him but her feet remained planted. Annie couldn't break her eyes away from Rayne, despite Pascal threatening to kill her as well just by standing there. She couldn't form the words she wanted to say to him. Her mouth hung open.

"You're going to get out of here alive, Annie Cresta," he breathed roughly. "Do you hear me? Alive."

Annie gulped and nodded vigorously.

"And when you do, tell Calypso that I love her and that I tried to come home and I am so sorry. It will mean more coming from you than hearing it now. Promise that you'll tell Calypso, promise!"

"I promise!" she choked, sobbing. Annie dropped to the ground and grasped Rayne's hand. It was the best she could do.

"Tell Calypso. Tell Mags thank you. I know you can do this. Get out for me."

"I promise I will!"

He squeezed her fingers.

"You were always weak," muttered Pascal. He drew the ax above his head and brought it down to Rayne's throat. Blood spattered across Annie's face. Again and again the ax struck him until Rayne's severed head was staring at the sky with dead eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Lots of action in this chapter and I honestly don't know how I did with it or how you guys will like it so...yeah. I listened to the Sweeney Todd soundtrack while writing this so it inspired the violence and such, that inspired the dark side of me to finish this chapter off.<strong>

**Thank you all for favorites, following, and reviewing! Every one of you means so much to me and I am glad to have nothing but positive feedback. As always, let me know what you thought of the chapter and if I need to work on anything.**

**On a final note, please check out/follow my tumblr! It's a personal blog, but it's mostly about the Hunger Games and I keep my followers updated on what's going on with the movie production. You can find me at .com! Thanks.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

**Where they head home.**

* * *

><p>Rayne's body was retrieved from the Arena. The moment that the hovercraft swooped down over the Cornucopia, Annie could hear Finnick screaming for her to run while the Careers were distracted. She darted away from the feast as fast as she could, ignoring the fight that resumed behind her. No one bothered to come after her.<p>

Annie was in an unfamiliar section of the forest when she stopped and dropped to the ground. She spun around and around, panicked, and searched for something that she knew. In the distance, she could hear the Careers break open the crates from the feast. She hadn't made it far enough away from them. The girl crouched in a patch of bushes, well concealed by leaves and branches. She listened to their muffled, disgruntled tones as they examined their prizes. Two cannons sounded in the sky, but there was no telling whose they were.

Her heartbeat was throbbing in the inner caverns of her ears. She closed her eyes tightly, trying her hardest not to drive herself mad like she had with Cael and Hollis. But Rayne's words were clinging to her and she couldn't forget them. She listened to him beg her to give his apologizes to his sister, his thanks and appreciation to Mags. Half of her wanted to crawl from her spot and doggy-paddle across the river – because she was certain that was all that was all she could manage – to retrieve the communicator. The more rational, intelligent sliver of her brain that somehow remained untouched by nightmares and the Games overall decided to pipe up and tell her to stay put, it knew the Careers would be searching for her soon. Annie sat and listened to the drum of her heart. Her head reeled sickly.

She paid no mind to her aching body or her thoughts, the nightmares that swam through her mind on a current of pure terror. She didn't think of how this reminded her of watching Finnick's Games, how he tore straight through people with his trident. She didn't worry about losing her life. Annie, in a sane corner of her mind, was listening to her mother read her fairytales from the old storybook and relearn how to tie knots with her father and watching her brothers roughhouse in the living room the way they used to when they were eligible for the Games and needed the practice. That was what kept her from running towards the remaining Careers and begging to be killed.

She couldn't tell how much time had passed, but Annie was ripped from her thoughts by the rumbling of earth. Trees shook overhead violently and Annie was digging her fingers into the soft ground below her just to remain sitting up. Her eyes flashed and her vision blurred. The world spun around her, it whizzed past her eyes before she could focus. Annie found it hard to breathe and drowned in her horror. The ground trembled, only growing more intense with the passing minutes.

* * *

><p>Finnick's forehead was pressed against the television screen as he leaned forward and his eyes couldn't be ripped away from the broadcast if his life depended on it. With only three competitors left in the Arena, the Capitol didn't offer the option to follow a specific tribute and he was forced to watch the male Careers tear each other open as they struggled to overpower the other. He hadn't seen Annie in hours. <em>Hours.<em>

Mags' hand rested on his quivering shoulder. The elderly woman was distraught after the loss of her tribute, her eyes were frazzled and her hair was pulled in every which direction, yet she was trying to do her best to keep Finnick calm. Annie was so close to home, she knew he could practically feel her running into his arms on the hovercraft, but so far away. She rubbed out the tense knots in his back reassuringly, weakly.

The cameras in the Arena shook, some even blacked out entirely. Finnick's heart skipped a beat and his breath hitched. The term for what was happening rested on the tip of his tongue, but the fear that had enthralled him kept it locked within his mouth. Finnick pounded his fists into the television screen. It was an earthquake. The Gamemakers sent an earthquake. Where was Annie? "Annie Cresta!" he screamed desperately and hit the screen again.

Several of the crates broke open around the Cornucopia, revealing stiff orange vests that were too familiar to him. They were the type kept on the boats in the bay; they were required to be worn at all times on the water by the Peacekeepers. The Capitol had sent the remaining tributes life vests because none of them knew how to swim. Finnick's heart plummeted. His eyes widened. The final hours of the Games were coming upon them, and the earthquake wasn't going to be the worst of it.

"Annie Cresta!" he screamed again, repeatedly now. Finnick banged his forehead against the television screen in frustration. His blood coursed through him hotter and faster with panic, like an unstoppable train that rushed down the tracks. "Annie!"

The cameras cut to the girl. She was biting her lip furiously and her hands were searching for handfuls of dirt. Finnick's heart was struck sickeningly. While her eyes were closed, he could read her expression too easily. Annie was expecting to die. She was too calm to have any fight left in her. Her shoulders were hunched over and her breath was slow. "Fight!" he commanded her. "You've got to keep trying, Annie! Annie!"

The dark haired, disheveled girl was badly scraped up, but her injuries were not terribly severe. It killed Finnick to see her lean back against the tree overhead; she pressed her back into it to keep a firm grip on the rumbling earth. She wasn't trying anymore. Annie looked too calm.

"Annie!" he called to her again.

"Finnick!" said Mags. Her grip on his shoulder tightened and she used all of her dwindling strength to yank him back from the broadcast. Behind them, she heard the chuckles of the mentors of Iem and Pascal – two men from One and Two who she had names for but couldn't place correctly. She leaned to whisper in his ear. "She is going to know. She is going to make it. She is going to win."

Behind her, Mags heard the mentor from Two snort.

"Hey!" she snapped. Mags prodded the screen with an old, wrinkled finger. She smudged the spot over the Cornucopia. "Do you see what those are? Life vests! Do you think your tributes are smart enough to know how to use them? No! Annie's the only one who knows how to swim!"

Finnick released a miserable sound that was somewhere between a moan and a call for Annie. He reached helplessly for the screen.

It cut to Annie again. Finnick was captivated. Her slender fingers brushed her left hand and lingered on the silver band around her finger. His mouth fell open.

There was so many things that he hadn't had the chance to say to her. Suddenly it was like they hardly knew each other at all and Finnick was imagining all the time that they should have spent with each other. He never so purely wanted to be with another human being and now he was going to lose her.

The cameras flashed from Annie to the Careers to the force field that contained the tributes to the Arena. It flashed bright violet before dissolving altogether. In the blink of an eye, the earthquake had gone out of control and broken the barrier of the Games. From out of nowhere, water was coursing into the Arena. It swallowed the playing field whole and flooded every inch of ground from the river to the Cornucopia. It happened too fast. The Gamemakers cut to a close up of each tribute's face, cutting the screen into thirds.

Iem and Pascal wore the same panicked, hopeless expression.

Annie's expression was something between relieved and prepared. She looked as if she knew this was going to happen and was entirely ready for it. She was engulfed by the roaring waves and hidden from view. The cameras shifted underwater and showed Annie skillfully darting between trees and shrubs underwater. She knew how to swim in-tune with the current and showed that it was second nature to her.

Iem and Pascal struggled to do as much as doggy paddle to the Cornucopia. Neither of them even thought to grab onto one of the orange life vests being swept up on the waves. Their wrecked bodies slammed into the side of the Cornucopia, which was slowly being pushed over by the water. The Careers coughed up water and spit and even blood, tainting the waves.

Finnick drew back from the television screen. The broadcast room was entirely silent. The sound of the television broadcast had cut out. He was caught in an unknowing state, entirely unsure of the outcome of the Arena. All Finnick heard was the nervous thundering of his own pulse.

Two cannons sounded, shaking the Arena – one right after another.

Annie was now paddling along the water, darting around with the somewhat settled waves. Now that the water was calm, she rolled onto her back and floated still for a moment. The sunlight poured onto her face. She still wore a terrified expression. Annie didn't know what was going on.

Trumpets blared throughout the Arena and broke the silence in the broadcast room. The truth settled in. Finnick stared at the screen blankly.

"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed Claudius Templesmith. Finnick couldn't help but notice that the announcer sounded less enthusiastic than normal. "I present to you the winner of the Seventieth Hunger Games, Annie Cresta of District Four!"

Her head snapped out of the water as she bolted upright in shock. Annie was trembling.

Finnick breathed a sigh of relief and threw himself into Mags' open arms. "She did it," he told her in disbelief. Mags beamed, nodding. "She did it. She did it!"

"What'd I tell you?" said Mags. Over Finnick's shoulder, she watched a Capitol hovercraft swoop down over Annie and pluck her from the water. The screen cut to Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman when she reached to turn off the broadcast. There was nothing more to see. "She'll be here within the hour."

* * *

><p>Annie was strapped to a silver examining table by thick belts at her shoulders, waist, and ankles. Her eyes darted uneasily across the room; it was an operating room that was filled with medical machines and tools that she didn't have names for. She could feel the purr of the hovercraft vibrating through the table. Annie was restless, yet she couldn't move. It was awful being restrained.<p>

While everything was over, Annie was reliving everything from the beginning – starting from the Reaping. She was torn away from her parents and her brothers. Watching Rayne leave tiny Calypso at the Justice Building. The car ride to the train station. Being called Finnick's plaything. Finnick telling her she was too good for the Games on the train ride. Her prep team. Rea. Being painted for the parade. Naked in front of Finnick for Gossamer's twisted plan. Seeing the Careers for the first time. Tying knots with Hollis. The three. The interviews. The ring. The launch. The cornucopia. Swimming. Hollis and Cael. Hollis' death. Rayne sparing her. Cael's death. The white parachute and the communicator from Finnick. Her alliance with Rayne. Rayne's beheading. Going insane. The earthquake. And the swim that saved her life. It all flashed before her eyes repeatedly, like a broken record without an end. She wanted to scream. It all haunted her every thought.

There was no escape.

Her eyes fluttered open and closed as she struggled to remain conscious. Annie caught glimpses of plastic and wild colored doctors and nurses rushing around her. They prodded her with examining tools and stuck her with needles. The most that Annie felt was a slight pinch in the crease of her elbow, but nothing more. Her open scrapes were stung by the water and numbed her entire body.

Despite her strongest efforts to stay awake, Annie found herself slipping away after one of the nurses injected her with medicine rather than drawing blood like the rest had. Even in her unconscious state, she was haunted by her nightmares.

She woke again in another hospital room, strapped to another examining table, in almost an identical room to the one on the hovercraft. Annie's limbs tingled. It took her several minutes to blink away the horrifying images from her mind. She was coated in a sheer layer of sticky sweat and her muscles were stiff. Her restraints were tighter than before and she couldn't move in the slightest. Annie felt like screaming.

"Mentors don't normally come in this early," insisted a nurse in the hall. She sounded frantic. Footsteps shuffled. "You can't go in there. She isn't even conscious yet."

"Please." Finnick.

Finnick.

Annie's eyes widened. She opened her mouth to call for him but couldn't manage a sound. She turned her head towards the door, eyes calling for them while her words couldn't.

"Please," he repeated.

More footsteps. The door cracked open and a purple-haired nurse slipped inside and Finnick followed. Annie's excitement washed out of her system. The concern in his eyes morphed into hatred. His tenseness turned into anticipation. Finnick was in his Games again and staring her down. She screamed.

"Annie," he purred desperately as he grasped her hand. His sea green eyes flickered as he looked over her. Finnick ran his fingers over the back of her hand, he coaxed her into silence. Annie stared up at him in shock with her mouth hanging open. "Annie. Lovely. Annie."

She shook uncontrollably. His touch stung. Annie turned away from him, struck with fear.

"Annie. Annie, look at me," Finnick pleaded. She sucked in a sharp breath and turned her face to him. His incredible eyes drew her in. He patted her hand. Her mentor was on the verge of tears, though Annie didn't see it for what it was. "Hello, lovely."

Her green eyes brightened. Finnick watched her sink into her old self. "Finnick!" she chirped excitedly. Her voice cracked. "Finnick!" Her hands shook as she reached for him, fighting with all her might against the restraints.

Finnick ducked his head, hiding his face. A tear dribbled onto her hand. Annie watched him, controlling her breathing to keep from panicking. "Everything's okay now," he promised. His voice wavered weakly. "We're going to go home."

"District Four?" she gasped in disbelief. A smile tugged at Annie's lips. She was bubbling with happiness and excitement. "District Four?" Vance. Spensa. Fletcher. Nero. Penn. Her mother. Her father. And…Calypso. Her smile faded. Rayne. "Finnick…"

He reached up to smooth her hair back. "I know," Finnick murmured, sensing her distress. "We can call your parents on the train home. Things will get better. District Four."

She nodded stiffly. Annie's eyes darted to the smiling nurse standing behind Finnick and back. District Four. In her ears rang Rayne's last words, him begging her to tell his sister that he loved her. She wanted to cover her ears to block it out, she wanted to scream. But with Finnick standing over her and the restraints holding her to the examining table, she couldn't. "Finnick," she breathed, for it was the only word she could confidently manage.

"Why don't you step back out in the hall, Finnick," said the nurse.

* * *

><p>No one came out of the Arena the same. Innocent children became murderers. The ones that had any possibility of recovering were used by the state, became Capitol prostitutes like Finnick. Or even worse. He thought of Johanna Mason and Haymitch Abernathy and how President Snow had killed off anyone that meant something to them when they refused to play his games. He quivered as he thought about what could happen to Annie. She wasn't strong minded like the rest of the victors. She didn't kill; she was too good for the Games. Annie was still a weak little girl. There was too much that President Snow could do to her.<p>

"I would say that she has post-traumatic stress disorder," began the nurse calmly, "but it is only a form of it, since we don't know if she has thought of self-harm since the events of the Arena. She isn't going to be the same, Mr. Odair."

He knew that. Finnick was frozen and stared at the purple-haired nurse blankly. In his mind, he was formulating everything that he had heard President Snow had done to the victors. Families assassinated. Prostitution. Torture. Living with the Games on her shoulders would be enough to have Annie crumbling at the president's feet. The only true winner of the Games was always President Snow. Finnick's head was swirling with anger and he was desperate to now to know what was in store for his Annie.

"I know," he grunted. "No one ever is."

Her eyes dimmed sadly. "Other than that, she isn't banged up too bad. She can go once the doctor looks her over once more."

Finnick nodded.

"When you take her home, I suggest that you keep an eye on her for a bit longer. I don't think she should be left alone. We don't want her being a danger to herself."

"Of course," he agreed. Finnick could only imagine what kind of hell Annie would be going through for the next few months. He could hear her screams as she woke from nightmares from across the Victors' Village. He could see her just giving up one day during a swim and being swept under. He could feel her skin unnaturally cold under his fingertips. Finnick clenched his fists. He ducked back and peered around the doorframe into Annie's hospital room. She was calm and a bit too still.

"I'll go get the doctor then," said the nurse, slipping past him. "You're free to visit her."

"Thank you." Finnick didn't feel like being polite, it was too much of a strain. When the nurse was gone, he turned to step back into Annie's room. She turned her head towards him. He couldn't read her expression.

"Finnick Odair!" shrieked Gossamer. She trotted down the long corridor in her pointy heels. Mags followed far behind, hoisting herself forward with her cane for every step. Finnick's chest tightened. Maybe Annie would feel better talking with someone she didn't associate a childhood fear with. "Wait for us!"

Finnick was frozen as he watched the black haired woman sweep past him into Annie's room. The trio had been waiting for the girl in the lobby of the hospital floor, and Mags had made Gossamer promise not to find Finnick until he gave the okay. So much for that plan. "Annie!" cried Gossamer. He watched the woman awkwardly try to hug Annie. "We are so proud of you!"

Mags hobbled into the room. She smiled at Annie, but didn't overwhelm her with shrieks of delight. Finnick appreciated that. The girl shrunk away from both of the women timidly. Finnick was struck when her eyes flickered towards him, she silently called for help. He crossed the cold, metal room towards her. Mags' hand rested on his shoulder.

"You did good," said Mags sadly.

Annie caught the woman's tone. Her eyes flashed, horrified. "Rayne," she whispered. "Rayne."

Finnick practically pushed the other two out of his way. He grasped her hand tightly, whispering to her. It was the first thing he thought to do to avoid watching her break down. "Annie, lovely, he's alright now," he told her.

"You're lying!" she accused. While it broke his heart to hear, Finnick could see some of the old Annie creeping back up on him. "You're lying, Finnick! He's hurt! He's hurt!"

He shook his head, trying not to crumble before them. It took too long to piece himself back together for him risk any of that. This was about Annie. "He's safe and sound, I promise," Finnick murmured, lips brushing her ear as he spoke. He watched Annie's expression soften. "Rayne's safe and sound."

She refused to accept his answer. Annie turned her head away from him, whipping Finnick in the face with strands of dark hair. Her chest tightened with every breath she sucked in. He pecked her cheek lovingly, drawing her attention back.

"Ms. Cresta," said the doctor as he appeared in the doorway. His skin was crawling with blue script. Annie and Finnick were both startled by the sudden announcement. "I've glanced over your files and if Mr. Odair is willing to take you, you're free to go."

It was so wrong to Finnick that they had diagnosed her with post-traumatic stress disorder and they were letting her go so easily. The idiot Capitol doctors must not know a thing of real pain; they must think it was limited to physical misery. Finnick knew the expanse of Annie's agony would stretch far beyond that of her body. Annie squeezed his hand as the doctor released the belts restraining her.

"Mr. Odair, if I could have you sign the release paperwork, please," said the doctor pulling him out of the room.

Finnick watched Annie struggle to sit upright, requiring the help of both Gossamer and Mags. It should have been him. He is the one looking after her.

* * *

><p>Annie was detached. Her eyes fixed on a precise point in the air before her during the entire cab ride back to the Training Center. She didn't speak; she didn't as much as look to anyone beside Finnick. Several times, Gossamer tried to strike up a small conversation with her. It ended with Gossamer trailing off awkwardly as she couldn't bring Annie to words. The girl watched the passing horizon or Finnick's eyes. She held his hand on her lap and nodded her head to a song only she could hear.<p>

When the cab pulled into the long drive before the Training Center, it was Gossamer would slipped from her seat to retrieve their things. She insisted that she didn't want help; she didn't want Mags to exert herself or Finnick to leave Annie. Several minutes later, the woman appeared with an Avox tagging along behind her, pushing a trolley piled with suitcases – most of them being hers. Lying on top was a dry-cleaned, iron-pressed and fresh scented dress that was the shade of pale blue that only came from District Four dyes. Annie's reaping dress.

"Look, Annie," said Finnick pointing to the dress. The Avox wheeled the cart to the trunk to start packing away the suitcases. Her eyes brightened with life.

"It was my mother's," said Annie distantly.

Finnick's heart leapt into his throat. She was getting better. She wasn't going to live in fear in the back of her mind. "It's very pretty," he told her. Annie agreed with a quick nod and turned towards the window again.

He helped her through crowds of reporters in the train station. She seemed more frightened of the flashing lights and bug-like cameras now more than ever. Annie cringed at each flash and hid her face in his shoulder. Finnick did his best to shield her from the photographers, but the things they called to her were impossible to ignore.

"Annie! What is it like being the newest victor?" They didn't realize she had been in the hospital for the past twenty-four hours.

"How will it be when you have to face Rayne's family?" Annie screamed at this, and Finnick did his best to calm her down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gossamer smack that reporter upside the head and scold him.

"Annie! You're still wearing your token. Did Finnick propose?" The pair stared wide-eyed in the direction the question came from. He enveloped her hand, hiding the ring from the cameras.

She looked to him. "That's what it was?"

"No," he muttered with a smile in her ear. "It was something else, unimportant right now."

Annie nodded and began to drift off again. Finnick assisted her onto the train and she could pull herself together long enough to follow Gossamer and Mags down the narrow, vaguely familiar hallway. She was fighting to stay where she was; she didn't want to watch the Arena spring up before her eyes. Mags pulled Finnick and Annie down a separate, new hallway that Annie didn't recognize. The woman gave Finnick a knowing look to which he caught on. Annie knew why, too. "Rayne," she murmured.

"Yes," said Mags quietly. She lead them through the train's kitchen, which was bustling with Avoxes determined and on task, through the back door into the dining room. Annie's eyes brightened as she turned to examine the carvings in the wood paneling, she traced her finger over the nets and seashells and waves. "She's there, Finnick," Mags told him as she sank into her seat.

He watched Annie with desperation in his eyes. The girl who sat beside him was the hollow shell of a girl he sent off to the Arena. She was seemingly content for the moment, though, and that was more than he could ask for. Annie was tracing patterns into the table, eyes glazed with a terrible pain that she couldn't blink away. Sometimes she would break away from her intense concentration and laugh, despite it being the wrong time in the conversation being carried on around her. Finnick wished he knew what she was thinking of.

Annie liked the sound of their voices. She couldn't bear to listen to names of tributes mentioned or the words _Games _or _Arena_ muttered under breath, so she only allowed herself to hear the lull of the conversation. Her dull eyes always brightened slightly when Finnick spoke. With her index finger, Annie wrote her brothers' names into the tabletop.

She didn't eat when food was placed before her. Annie just stared at the mouthwatering plate for the length of dinner. She pondered several times whether or not she should take the fork and start to dig in, but decided against it each time the question arose in her mind. Gossamer tried to speak to her, tried to coax her into eating something, but Annie refused. She gave a slight shake of her head and turned to stone again. Something just wasn't the same within her, for even when she wasn't terrified, there was a stirring in the pit of her stomach that threatened to flood into her system and suck her down again. Gossamer nudged her.

"Please, Annie." Her words only caught her attention because they were stripped of her ridiculous Capitol accent. Annie's eyes followed hers as they darted towards Finnick. Her heart was struck by his pained expression. Gossamer stared at her. "Please." She pushed the plate towards her again.

Annie was careful of what she ate. Somehow she knew that nothing would stay down. The rest of the supper passed in silence, aside from forks scraping against plates just to create the illusion of food being eaten – Annie wasn't the only one struggling to force food down. When the meal finished, Finnick lead Annie back to her bedroom. It was too eerily familiar and cold. She shuttered as she moved to the edge of her neatly made bed. Finnick was about to turn out when she called for him.

"Finnick," she said, voice cracking.

The sliver of light in the room widened as he opened the door and stepped back inside the room. "Yes?" He was tired.

An old sense of guilt overwhelmed her heart. "Finnick," she repeated. Annie couldn't manage any more words, no matter how hard she tried. _Stay with me. Please, stay with me. I don't want you to go. I can't be by myself. I hate the nightmares. I hate living in my head. _Her mouth hung open but nothing rolled from her frustrated tongue. She stiffened as she waited.

His sea green eyes flickered. Finnick flipped on the light. He paused to stare at her and listen to the patter of rain on the roof, knowing better than to mention it. Dark circles weighed down Annie's already dull green eyes, and her dark curls were knotted and unkempt. She was tinier now than when they had met. Somehow, he could see the good to this. Finnick saw a girl who needed help, yes, and needed it quite desperately but also a girl who would never be hungry and never have to work or do anything she didn't want to. If he could keep her in District Four, Annie would always be happy. Her eyes softened under his gaze. Finnick settled in an armchair across from the foot of her bed.

Annie crawled back and tucked herself under the fine sheets. Her wide eyes studied him. She felt so responsible, it made her head ache. "Tell me stories," she pleaded. "Please."

And so he did. Unbeknownst to Annie, his story was all about her and how she didn't live the rest of her life in the Arena. She liked it, though. She also liked how he whispered "I love you" when he thought she was sleeping.

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><p><strong>I love all of your responses to the previous chapter. Seriously. Every review, favorite, and follower this story gets is just unbelievable to me and I love it so much.<strong>

**I would like to forewarn you that my updating pattern is shifting. I don't know how things will settle, but since I just transferred to a new school, I will be growing accustomed to a new schedule and different times to write. I don't see it becoming much of an issue, but don't expect more than two updates a week. Sorry.**

**I'm sorry my tumblr didn't work for those of you who said you'd follow. I don't know how to post links within chapters so you may have to type it in in the address bar. Again, it's .com**

**I feel like I just utterly failed with this chapter. I apologize for it being a complete let down. Please let me know what you thought and how I can improve.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Home.**

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><p>Annie didn't sleep when she had the chance. She spent the entire night lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, listened to Finnick snore across the room. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Rayne's severed head in the grass. She felt like she should still be in the hospital with the way she was thinking.<p>

She was scared stiff when she heard footsteps shuffling in the dead of night. They were too close for comfort to her and she kept picturing Pascal with an ax in his hand. She should be dead, she escaped too easily, and this was how her mind was going to punish her. Annie slithered out from under her comforter to peek at the noise's source, only to find herself watching Finnick trudge out of the room, rubbing a knot out of his neck. Without him in the room, she suddenly felt more at risk and uncomfortable than ever. Annie was certain that he wouldn't return and was sitting in a frozen state of panic. She watched the faces of the Careers draw in closer to her, each with a weapon of choice in their hands. The menacing glares that stared her down dissolved into thin air when Finnick returned, dragging a pillow back behind him.

"Finnick," she said as she crawled from her bed. She was wearing a nightgown that she didn't remember changing into. Annie stood at the side of the bed and stared at him with childish eyes. He watched her, tired. Her hospital gown lay at her feet. "Sleep."

He was frozen as she slipped past him and took a perch on his chair. Annie held up a finger towards the bed, offering it to him. Finnick slumped back onto the mattress. "Are you sure?" he asked groggily. "You need to sleep, too."

She shrugged her shoulders. He crashed back into the pillows, avoiding the one she had used by replacing it with his own. Within minutes, Finnick had dozed off again and was snoring louder than ever. Annie shifted several times in the chair before finding a position that was even remotely comfortably and stayed that way until morning broke into the bedroom.

Garish light poured in through the room the moment the sun was in the sky, for the curtains had never been drawn closed. Annie liked the look of the morning; it reminded her how far away the Arena actually was. Her heart leapt excitedly, bringing a new life to her, when she saw the high-reaching fence that enclosed District Four in the distance. She knew that's where they were not only because it was their destination, but because of the squat cottages that lined the field just beyond it and the rusty water tower with her district's number painted on it that shot into the sky. Her family was probably just rousing from their beds on the other side of the district, close to the sea. It wouldn't be that much longer until she saw them again.

Annie twisted, yanking herself around by the arm of the chair, to pop the tension in her back. She stretched her legs out across the carpeted floor and rose from her perch. She darted to the window and pressed her hands against the glass. It was warm. She felt her pulse in her cold fingertips.

Excitedly, she turned to wake Finnick. He was sprawled across the mattress with one leg hanging off the side. His face was slightly red and splotchy, as if he had been crying in his sleep. Annie hadn't heard a thing and wondered what that could have been about. He stirred and she froze, waiting for him to wake.

"Annie," he mumbled in his slumber. Finnick flung his hand across his chest, it rested over heart limply. Her heart perked and her eyes brightened. "Annie…"

"Finnick," she whispered, leaning towards him instinctively, drawing away from the window. His incredible eyes fluttered open. Finnick was startled by the sight of Annie's face so close to his own. "Sorry." She turned away.

He brushed strands of dark hair away from her face with his fingertips, skimming the skin of her forehead. Annie felt of fever. "You didn't sleep, did you?" asked Finnick. She shook her head. "Silly, girl." He spoke with a groggy, throaty tone and each syllable was drenched with sleep. Annie sat back. "You should probably clean yourself up a bit, it's a big day."

She nodded and forced stiff legs to carry her from the bedroom. The narrow hallway running along the back of the train seemed more claustrophobic than ever. Annie shivered and recoiled into the far corners of her mind as she searched the dim corridor for the bathroom. Her hands quivered as she searched the walls. The first door she came to she knew was the bathroom.

Annie couldn't have peeled out of her clothes or washed her face or hair or underneath her grimy fingernails if she had wanted to. The strong scent of disinfectants that still clung to her skin from her stay in the hospital kept the smell of the Arena from drifting back up her nostrils. As fast as she could, Annie stripped of her awful nightclothes and into whatever was tucked into the drawers and cupboards. She was fairly certain that she now wore men's trousers since they, while being oversized, didn't even fall on her hips the way women's clothes should. She raked her slim fingers through her hair, pulled out a knotted wad of it, and tied it up on the top of her head. As she finished with those simple tasks, Annie was beginning to drift again.

She dashed from the bathroom and sprinted down the hallway. Images of Rayne's head and her brothers being reaped in her nightmares and Finnick about to take her down with a spear wracked her mind, she couldn't see past them. Annie ducked into every room, searching for someone, hoping to wipe the images from her clouded eyes, but didn't find anyone until she stood in the doorway of the dining car. Finnick, Gossamer, and Mags were circled around one end of the table, waiting for her.

"Sit by me," said Mags, patting the table. Annie had forgotten how sickly she sounded overnight, it was painful. She obeyed, stealing the chair beside the old woman. "How are you this morning, Annie?"

She gulped. "I am fine," she said, over-enunciating the words. Annie clenched her fists on her lap as her eyes darted around the table. They were all staring at her. Finnick was particularly worried.

"We reach the station just after breakfast," continued the old woman. She began picking at the food on her plate and gave a knowing glance to her other companions, prompting them. "Isn't that exciting?"

Annie agreed silently.

They continued the meal in utter silence. It didn't creep up on them; it crashed into them head-on like the waves. Annie's eyes brightened and she perked up at the thought. She could feel the ebbing waves wash over her toes, faint like a dream. Sunshine poured onto her shoulders. Her fingers surely tied knots. In the distance, she could see her father's fishing boat floating in the bay. Annie forcefully directed her thoughts around this happy image throughout the entirety of breakfast, it fought off the nightmares like a champion.

She gripped the arms of her chair nervously when she felt the train slow, round a corner, and pull into the station. The daylight had been blacked out by shabby brick walls. Annie immediately looked to Finnick, who tried to smile at her. The rails screeched like seabirds as the train came to a halt. Her squat cottage on the cliffs flashed through her mind, bringing a smile to her lips.

Annie rose from the table and moved to Finnick's side. He gripped her hand. Finnick lead her off of the train. Mags hobbled behind them with a smile tugging at her lips. Annie felt whole for the first time in weeks, it was unbelievable. She looked around, excited to tell Rayne that they were going back, but she grew sick when she saw Gossamer at Mags' side instead. Finnick kept her from stumbling.

"He's alright, Annie," Finnick whispered as he helped her step onto the platform. "Everything is okay."

She gulped. His words sunk in quickly and kept Annie from entirely flipping out. She gazed out over the platform, anxiously searching for her family. Annie, still, has yet to see a train station that wasn't crawling with reporters and bug-like cameras and overwhelming flashes. Her eyes darted across the wide space, searching for a familiar face. Finnick yanked her down from the train. He stood behind her, pressed his hands over her ears, and directed her through the crowd of reporters. Annie couldn't tell if it was because he didn't want her to hear them or him screaming obscenities at them.

Annie was relieved when she reached the cab, waiting at the curb outside of the station for them. It was like Reaping Day in reverse; they crowded themselves into the backseat and sped off towards the market square. She was eased into what she recognized as District Four, expensive merchant neighborhoods and well-kept buildings transitions into the slummier parts of the market. The cab pulled up in front of the Justice Building, where there was a line of Peacekeepers in white waiting for them. Annie, so enthralled with her home, hadn't noticed that the square was entirely empty until now. She climbed from the cab, still clinging to Finnick, and scanned the crowd. The hustle of the market seemed much more overwhelming to her now. She never remembered this many people in such a small space, other than the Reaping. Only this was different, everyone was shuffling around, in a hurry.

She stood in the cobblestone square at Finnick's side, clutching his hand too tightly. It was damp from the night's rain, just as she had left it. The Reaping Day decorations had been taken down, the stage struck and packed away for next year, and the crowds of district children absent. She tried not be ripped from him by the surge and flow of the crowd.

"Finnick–" she began to ask nervously when her eyes caught on a small figure running towards her. She was small, maybe seven, with dark hair that trailed out behind her like a banner. Annie's heart knotted itself several times over and throbbed madly in her chest. The girl's familiar bright eyes were locked on her.

Annie dropped Finnick's hand to embrace Calypso. She held the girl to her, felt her shallow breathing, the race of her heart, the dampness on her cheeks. Her mind swam with words and for once Annie fought through them. She forced herself to speak. "He loved you so much," she gasped, tucking the girl's head under her chin. "He tried so hard because he loved you."

Finnick, shocked at Annie's sudden change, smiled beside her. His strong hand rested on her quivering shoulder.

Annie was clinging to the last piece of Rayne. She didn't know exactly what she was feeling; she had no words for it. She broke away from Calypso for a slight moment to look down at the girl's face. She was too much like him, she could see that too clearly now, the way she didn't before. Annie's heart untwisted itself from the knots and began to relax, only to rip itself apart when the entire crowd in the market parted. The disappointment she felt after not seeing them in the train station was nothing compared to filling the void.

Vance threw his arms around his sister first, holding her tight. Calypso managed to slip away just before they crashed together. He was crying, sobbing actually, more distraught now than the day he saw her off to the Games. Annie breathed into his shoulder, arms shaking from shock and too stiff to wrap back around him.

Annie watched her mother racing to them next, eyes watering and sunken in dark circles. There was no doubt in her mind that the woman hadn't had a decent hour of sleep since the night of the Reaping. She tried to remember when that was, guilty, and figured almost a month ago. The bedraggled woman ran straight past her without even trying to pry Annie from her brother. Annie could barely see through her tears, but she still managed to watch her mother through her arms around Finnick, sobbing. The well-fed woman of District Four appeared so frail compared to the victor. "You saved my baby," she wept.

Fletcher. Penn. Nero. Spensa. Her father. Vance again. She was passed between them like a rag doll. Annie was utterly exhausted by the time she reached her mother. She slumped into the woman's arms. Finnick propped Annie up from behind, hoping to keep her from passing out. She could hear her mother muttering something in her ear but couldn't decipher words from the woman's breath and decided that it was nothing but nonsense. Annie was just so glad to be home.

"Let's go home."

Annie wiped tears from her eyes and proceeded to walk back through the district holding both Finnick's hand and Calypso's.

The eyes of the district were glued to Annie. Every glimpse someone stole of her made her more uncomfortable. She heard nothing but Nero trying to make happy conversation, how he hoped that things could go back to normal now. The squat cottage looked even better now than in her dreams. She bolted inside and settled on her bed. It looked untouched. It was so perfect.

With her eyes closed, Annie saw nothing but ebbing waves lapping at the sand. It was a nice break from the Arena. Salt water hung in the air around her. She was completely oblivious to her family standing over her at her bedside, smiling, glad that she was alright.

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><p><strong>Hey, lovely readers. I love you all. Thank you so much for the reviews and favorites and follows. The link to my tumblr is on my profile.<strong>

**I know this chapter was short. I'm sorry. I just felt that after the reunion, there wasn't anything I could keep writing about in this chapter. While the Games are over, I promise there will be a few more chapters. I hope this lived up to expectations and such. I'm still uncertain as to how I feel about it. Please let me know what you thought or what I can improve on! Thank you.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Where a new home is arranged for Annie.**

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><p>The Peacekeepers arrived within the hour to congratulate Annie on her victory and usher her into her new, well-deserved home sitting in the Victors' Village. The only complication with that was, however, that District Four simply had too many victors. More extravagant, Capitol-style houses were in the works but not quite finished enough for anyone to live in. Annie could have cared less about the house. She was perched at the foot of her bed with her old, ratty blanket draped over her shoulders, settled beside Finnick. She didn't move or even look at the Peacekeepers. Her parents dealt with them in the doorway, refusing their presses to show her the new blueprints.<p>

"We'll wait, thank you," said her father hoarsely. "She's a bit rattled. She doesn't need to be taken to see any houses right now."

"It is regulation, sir–"

"Typical," muttered Finnick unhappily under his breath. His sea green eyes were dark. It was too much trouble to let Annie be with her family for even the slightest amount of time. The victor needed to be treated as such, starting the moment they stepped foot back in the district. District Four was very proud of its standing in the Hunger Games; Annie couldn't be the one to tarnish it. "If it is that much of a problem, her staying here, she can move in with me."

The Peacekeepers stared at him curiously. Mrs. Cresta's eyes flashed unsurely while her husband's narrowed. Vance made no effort to mask his disapproval of this offering. Annie ducked her head, hiding her face, embarrassed. She hated stirring up this much trouble. Vance shook his head in protest. Annie looked to Finnick carefully.

"Really. You all can. It's too big for my father and me alone," Finnick promised, sensing the discomfort in the atmosphere. Annie watched his collected expression pull together but listened to the rapidly nervous beat of his heart just inches from her ears. She found it cute how he was thinking of what her parents thought of him.

Calypso, bright eyed and dark haired and looking too much like Rayne for Annie to stand looking at her for too long, scuttled from her seat in the corner. She popped up at Finnick's side, eyes smiling while her face still wore the pain of her brother's beheading. "I like you," she decided.

"You have very good judgement," said Annie monotonously. She did not break her eyes from Finnick's face. Her own heartbeat was racing. He made her nervous. She tried to smile for the little girl.

"Annie's and my winnings combined are more than enough to feed everyone," Finnick continued. His grip tightened around Annie's frail hand. "Mags and I will be happy to watch Annie during the day while you're out on the water – and Calypso, too. You'll all be well off for the first times in your lives."

Mr. Cresta was unmoved by reasons. His concern for his daughter could be read in the lines settled into his face like a book, that was all that he was thinking of. As any father should, watching his daughter move in with a boy she is, dare he say, romantically interested in is hard. Mrs. Cresta squeezed his hand. His expression softened. He watched Annie inch closer to Finnick.

"We'll sort this out," said Mr. Cresta as he dismissed the Peacekeepers. The screen door slammed into its rickety, splintering frame loudly as the pair retreated down the walk. A strong sea breeze swept in through the squat cottage. He turned back to his family, sitting in every which nook and cranny of the house. "I'll take you up on that, Finnick."

He smiled brightly and patted Annie's hand. Her lips spread into a smile as well. Grumbles rippled through the room, mostly from Vance.

Annie didn't even spend the night in her old cottage that she spent weeks dreaming about in the Arena. She gathered her things, her baby blanket and the storybook from the mantel, and happily followed Finnick to the opposite side of District Four to the Victors' Village. Indeed, it was huge, spread out over countless acres of land. Annie had been kept away as a curious child; Peacekeepers stood watch around the gates and fences protectively at all hours, so she had only ever seen glimpses of it close up. Three story houses that were painted wonderful shades of ocean blue and creamy green with perfect white shutters and trim were collected into an expensive sub-community of District Four. Some were well kept with green lawns and weeded flowerbeds blooming, others were beaten and worn like most of the district's residents and dirty, but all were clearly being lived in. The Peacekeepers immediately recognized her face as well as Finnick's and welcomed them and the Crestas happily; they lived to please the victors. Annie kept nervously at his side, overwhelmed by the scenery. It was almost as bad as the Capitol, but less garish and much homier. The majority of victors from the Games are split up nearly equally between Districts One, Two, and Four, only sprinkled in occasionally from the rest of Panem, but seeing it took a greater toll on Annie than hearing it.

Annie knew immediately which one was Finnick's mansion. It was nothing special compared to the rest, the white trim and dark blue shell were identical to the rest. Strands of seashells hung in the windows. Fishing tools were kept on the porch. The only thing that led Annie to realize that it was definitely his was the one next door, actually. On the porch of the house next door sat a wrinkled old woman in a rocking chair, crafting fishing hooks out of wire. Annie smiled. Mags.

"Would you look at this motley crew," said Mags. She took her cane and hobbled down the steps to them. "Hello, all!"

Annie turned to her parents, a ghost of a smile glazed over her green eyes. Her lips popped open, and she meant to introduce the woman. Instead, her gaze snagged on Calypso. Rayne. Rayne's beheading. She gasped. Finnick gripped her shoulders and began to whisper words of reassurance and comforts. She pressed her hands over her ears in a panic, trying desperately to shut out the mix of his pleas and Rayne's last words. Gobs of words spat from Annie's mouth, but nothing was coherent.

"Annie, dear," murmured Mags. "Everything is fine. Everything is fine."

She blinked and nodded. The panic had set into her bones. Annie just couldn't shake the alarm. She apologized to everyone quickly.

"This is Mags," said Finnick, gesturing to the tiny woman. "She was my mentor in the Games."

The wispy, white-haired woman stuck out her hand to Calypso first. Her friendly eyes flashed knowingly. The bright eyed girl shook her hand gently, as if frightened. Annie thought the notion was ridiculous, being scared of Mags. Calypso acted similarly around Finnick, too. Her eyes widened. It had never crossed her mind before but Mags was still a victor. Being scared of this frail old woman was justified in the same sense that Annie had been scared of Finnick. Annie had never thought of Mags that way. She stared at the wrinkled woman, amazed at her revelation.

"A pretty little thing, aren't you," said Mags with a smile to the little girl. She grinned, blushing. It was the closest thing she could say to her that hinted at her resemblance to her brother without being direct.

Finnick led the group up the steps into his mansion. Annie half-expected it to smell like the cleaners that stung her nose in the Capitol, but it smelled of salt water just like the rest of the district. She looked around, taking in the high-ceilings and polished floors. She knew that her cottage on the edge of the sea could fit into this house at least four-times over. It was so pretty.

"Make yourselves at home," welcomed Finnick.

"Thank you," whispered Annie as she watched her brothers disperse throughout the house. They acted like children, all spreading out and collecting together again to talk behind their sister's back. Her parents were busy talking amongst themselves, mostly under their breath. Calypso had taken an immediate liking to Mags and stood at the woman's side.

"Finnick," said a man. His voice echoed down the staircase. A middle-aged man who looked strikingly like his son appeared at the top of the stairs, rough hand gripping the rail for balance. "You were supposed to call."

"My tribute just won the Hunger Games," reminded Finnick, hugging Annie closer to him. "I was a tad busy."

They broke into smiles. Finnick's father was about to hug him when he saw Annie unable to pry herself from his son. He just nodded at his son. "I'm Merrick Odair, Finnick's father."

"Annie Cresta," whispered the dark haired girl. She hoped she sounded polite enough but was quite a mess after her recent breakdown. It was surely reflected in her tone.

"Indeed you are." A sly glance was passed to Finnick. Merrick's eyes darted to her finger and back. "Mags' ring?"

Finnick grunted, eyes bulging from his head. Understanding the message, Merrick turned away. He greeted Annie's parents in the same friendly tone. She couldn't help but notice that he spoke with the same sureness that Finnick had used around her before the Games, the tone she relaxed for. She watched her parents' expressions carefully; they spoke unchanging a million miles from her.

"Annie," said Finnick in her ear. His eyes searched her face for a moment. Confused, she watched him make a small gesture towards the staircase.

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><p>The rooms, terribly open and garishly bright, were overwhelming to Annie. Though they were nothing in comparison to being with Finnick. She had almost entirely forgotten what it was like to be with him, constantly, always a few strides away. Perched on the edge of a well-made bed, she sat and watched him. He was so childish; sitting on the floor with his legs crossed like was required in the schools of young kids. Young, before the reaping was a threat, before you worried about training as a Career or applying for tesserae. Annie's mind always trailed back to the Games.<p>

Finnick's eyes gleamed, reflecting the sunlight that shown in from the windows. "I'm happy you're home, Annie," he said. The ghost of a smile touched his lips, though his eyes were practically howling with pain.

"Home," she repeated softly. Annie was still dazed, confused by the situation. How had her parents so easily agreed to moving in with Finnick Odair? They knew his reputation better than she did. Ease her way back into District Four, she supposed. She glanced to Finnick and nodded, the most she could manage to reassure him somehow.

"I'm going to warn you, though, I will be headed back to the Capitol in a few days…" his voice fragile – held at a single monotonous note so that it wouldn't shatter. He was choking back tears.

"Please, don't cry," she whispered, inching closer to him. Annie nearly slipped onto the floor. She reached for his face, cupped his cheek in her hand. It felt unreal. "Please, don't cry, Finnick." Her lips stretched into a painful smile as she tried to comfort him. She couldn't fathom why returning to the Capitol would be so terrible. The general sense, she understood it. But was it really so unsettling that he, one of the strongest people she had ever met, was going to break down over it. "I don't understand…"

"I don't want you to understand. I want you to heal yourself first; I can't have you worrying about me, Annie." He sniffled. Finnick's eyes flashed as they met hers. "I will just be being a victor, is all." He touched the ring clinging to her finger. "Thing's will be okay here."

Annie hung her head, letting locks of dark hair fall around her face, creating a wavy curtain that hid away her eyes. She remained still for a few moments, processing what had been said, reeling. The brief sense of home she had felt only a moment ago was beginning to fade away, slip from her fingers like an open handful of sand. Annie felt alone and cold, like she was engulfed in chilled waves tugging her in every which direction. Her family wasn't adjusting to their new home in the rooms around her; she wasn't sitting in District Four. How had she only known Finnick for such a short time, yet was already so dependent of him? Annie glanced at Finnick through strands of hair falling over her face. Her eyes flickered and his smiled. She wiped a tear from his cheek.

He tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "It'll only be for a day or two," he promised. "Stay here, keep Mags company. She tends to get bored." He smiled, for real this time.

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><p>Indeed, Mags did get bored. Annie would think that she, being an old woman, would be content with sitting around her home and reading some Capitol newspaper or watching the television. However, this was not the case. Two days later, after Annie had seen Finnick off at the train station for the Capitol, she returned immediately to Mags' house so she wouldn't face Finnick's empty room. Calypso had practically moved in with the woman, she had taken a liking to a spare room at the end of the hallway. The seven-year-old kept Mags on her toes; she was a very energetic child with no way of knowing how to cope with the recent tragedy other than ignore it by distracting herself. The kitchen was now filled with countless crafts such as sea shell necklaces, paintings, several trays of cookies, and papers strewn about – some covered with sloppy handwriting beside beautiful, scrawling script and other drawings from the hand of a child. Drawings of a bright eyed, dark haired boy that haunts Annie's dreams. Mags was kind to look after Calypso, just as she had been with Rayne. Though, when the girl was resting, Mags always had to be doing something to keep herself busy as well.<p>

"Are you hungry, Annie?" asked Mags, rummaging around through her cupboards. She never sat down, never stopped moving. She constantly hobbled about the house, propped up on her cane, refusing to miss even a single beat. She checked over her shoulder at Annie, sitting beside Calypso at the counter. "I can make you something if you'd like."

"No, thank you," murmured Annie. Her gaze was in a fixed position, staring straight ahead. She didn't want to risk breaking down at the sight of Calypso. She preoccupied herself by wondering what Finnick was up to, if he was still on the train, if he was having an awfully miserable time and was already desperate to come home. The relief of being in District Four had yet to wear off, being out of the Arena was a pleasure waking to every morning since that is where she spent her nightmares. She found herself envying those who have never left the district, the ones whose fear of the Capitol didn't extend past the Reaping Day. As if on cue, Annie's stomach rumbled. Calypso giggled.

"Well, if I don't have to cook, I say we head down to the beach today," announced Mags with a smile. Her eyes flashed brightly. She watched Calypso more closely than she ever watched Annie; the child was surprisingly more fragile. "What do you two think about that?"

Soon enough, Annie was ready on Mags' front porch, plush new towel in hand, dressed in an old and faded bathing suit and a pair of her brother's pants that she had cut off into shorts and fell from her hips. She followed behind Mags and Calypso as they walked from the Victors' Village into the market and to the other side of District Four, all the while the elder victor quietly introduced their new neighbors to them under her breath. There was Charlemagne, another Capitol favorite that had won his Games by gutting his victims like fish, and Marina, who was the child of a previous victor and practically won by default because she was the only one who knew how to swim, and Cael… Annie had forced herself to stop listening. She was struck down with crippling pain simply because of his name. She focused on kicking up sand with her sandals and the sun pouring over her skin.

Finally, Annie could see the sea glimmering in the distance, beyond bucolic houses that dotted the seashore. One cottage in particular that caught her eye was her own, an abandoned squat house that was technically still her family's. She ignored it as best she could, just like she had been to avoid looking at Calypso's face, and carried on as if she hadn't seen it. The memories of cold nights, too terrified to sleep because of the pending reapings seemed to seep from the cracks in the windows, the smell of homemade bread infused with bits of seaweed wafted from the chimney. Her heart twisted into knots just thinking about what she had left in that house. Annie, though, wanted nothing to do with it; she wanted to start fresh like the Games had never happened. The house would only weigh her down.

The beach was cold, the sand damp, and the ebbing waves numbed her toes as they rolled over the shore. Down the strip of beach, the marina was dead and empty, all of the fishing vessels out at sea. It wasn't unusual to see other families scattered about the beach. Mothers with two much time on their hands brought their young children to build sandcastles, young schoolgirls and boys splashed about in the waves to celebrate a day off school, and Careers with too much time on their hands frequented the shores in leisure. Annie had never spent much time there herself. She would trek down to the marina every morning, sometimes with her mother and others without, and twist out nets like a machine. She had good friends there, older boys from school and her brother's friends, so someone was always there to talk with her and keep her mind occupied. It was surprising how little time she had spent on the actual beach when you consider how well she can swim. Annie had always spent more time swimming out in deep, dangerous, open waters, diving off the back of her brother's fishing boat when she went out into the bay with them.

Calypso had plopped into the sand and begun to scrawl her name into the damp sand beside an engraved butterfly. The waves lapped at the girl's toes and sucked the hem of her tattered dress back into the sea, staining the bright cream fabric with salt water. Annie remembered a time when that would have been her, only there because she needed to distract herself. She had been in the same position to escape watching Finnick spearing tributes to death in the Arena.

"Annie," said Mags, waving in front of her eyes. She had to keep yanking her cane out of the sand to keep from stumbling over. "Stay with me now."

"Okay," mumbled Annie, feeling the grainy sand stick in between her toes.

Soon, at her side, Calypso had etched three stick figures into the sand and had labeled them as such: me, Mags, Annie. She then continued to draw in three more figures, above the heads of the trio. Her sloppy handwriting called them Rayne, Mommy, and Dad. Annie looked away quickly, feeling the tears swell in her eyes. There weren't many left that believed in some peaceful afterlife, but she clearly did by the cloud they were perched on and the smiles on their faces.

The afternoon was spent in the summer breeze. Annie thought mostly about the Capitol, about Finnick, and about her family. It was so strange to think that they were out on the water right now, carrying on because they were forced to like nothing had happened to them. She swayed in the breeze, lost in her thoughts. Her heart was struck with a strange longing, an unfamiliar, overprotective worry that swallowed her entire being like diving into the ocean. That's when Annie knew something was wrong.

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><p>No matter how brave Finnick deluded himself into thinking he was, he always began to shake with fear when he approached the door to the president's office. It gleamed, adorned with the golden Capitol seal, at the end of a narrow hall in the most hidden corner of the building. His heart stammered within his chest, weak with terror, and his breath hitched with each step he took. Finnick's fingers searched instinctively for the staff of the trident that wasn't there.<p>

He hesitated at the door. He had been there so many times that he was trusted by the guards to enter independently, but always found himself wishing for their company at this moment. A smile flashed in his eyes as he thought of Annie for comfort, smiling, standing in between Vance and Rayne. It had never happened, but Finnick whished that it had. It would have made her so happy. After waiting for his heart to calm, he stepped inside confidently.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Odair," greeted Snow. The white-haired man sat comfortably behind a glossy, lavish desk, snake-like eyes gleaming. His unnaturally, disgustingly puffy lips curled into a distorted smile. "It's good to see you."

"The pleasure is mine, sir," said Finnick stiffly. It amazed him how his manners never seemed to fail him, his mother taught him well. His green eyes flickered darkly. His mother, dead by Snow's command.

"I'm in no mood to play games today," Snow informed dismissively. _What a poor choice of words, _thought Finnick while he masked a scowl. "So I will cut to the chase. I know we let the communicator slide in the Arena. I know all you did was to protect her. But…Ms. Cresta was not supposed to win."

Finnick was unmoved by this statement, a cold stone statue. He knew that already. Once he had written the poem, as if the odds weren't so heavily waged against her, Finnick knew that Snow would do all that he could to keep her from standing any chance in the Arena. He nodded, understanding.

"The odds were never in her favor," said Finnick simply, hollow voiced.

"Indeed," agreed the president. He cleared his throat, clasped his hands on his desk top, and continued. "However, she did win. Ms. Cresta has had a growing admiration amongst Capitol citizens since then."

Finnick's eyes widened. His heart skipped a beat. This was the exact speech that Finnick had listened to when…the one that haunted his dreams…the one that ruined his life, his free will. No. It couldn't be. This wasn't really happening. He clenched his fists as the president's grin widened.

"So you have caught my drift. Yes. You've made her quite the desirable object, Finnick Odair."

"She is a person! A living, breathing person! Not some ditzy Capitol doll!" The words burst from his mouth before he could stop himself. "She is broken, too! All because of your Games! She hasn't even been home for a week yet and you're planning to bring her back here? Annie's gone mad!"

The color had washed from his face. Finnick's chest rose and fell violently as he gasped. Desperation glazed his eyes. His heart ached for her, for his Annie. For the mad girl he loved, who waited so eagerly for him to return home. What had he done?

President Snow, wearing an evil expression of satisfaction, leaned back in his leather chair. "You will watch your temper," he said. "She would make the state so much money…would you want me to just kill her instead?" He hissed, smirking.

"No!" roared Finnick. Desperation coursed through him. There were too many people who needed Annie, her parents and her brothers, Calypso and Mags, not just him. He couldn't let her slip away. "Let me take whoever wants her, let me keep her safe. Surely I will be good enough for them." He whimpered and ducked his head. "Please."

A single white eyebrow raised curiously. "If you wish," said President Snow. He didn't bother to mask his smile, his pleasure, and that triggered a torrent to flush Finnick's mind with happy images of spearing the president with his trident.

"Think of Annie," he muttered to himself as he turned out the door, dismissing himself. "Think of Annie."

"Think of a safe place," said President Snow, tone as sharp as a razor blade. "That's what she'll need more than a comforting thought."

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><p>"MAGS! MAGS! MAGS!" screamed Finnick into the receiver. He passed back and forth in the empty bedroom, exhausted. He raked his fingers through his already disheveled hair, yanking it away from his face. His heart was beating a million miles per minute. He couldn't calm himself, not even after what he had forced himself through that night – a usual with a new fetish. Finnick shuttered at the thought. "MAGS!"<p>

"Finnick Odair," she cooed soothingly. "Calm down. We are never going to accomplish anything if you keep yelling at me."

"You weren't saying anything!" he spat impatiently. "Where's Annie? Is she with you? Can you see her?"

"You've gone mental if you think I'd give her any chance of listening in on this conversation," she chastised. The pair had been on the telephone for more than an hour now, and with everything having been explained to her, Mags was at an utter loss for words. "She is next door with her parents. There hasn't been a single Peacekeeper in the Village all night, I've been keeping an eye on that."

"What are we going to do?" he demanded furiously, slamming his fist into the wall. A hole broke through in the drywall. Finnick pulled his hand out and blew off the dust. The Capitol is weak in every sense. "She can't stay in District Four. He said it won't be safe for her."

"Finnick." Mags had raised her voice now, too irritated to remain under a calm mask anymore. "She is the newest victor and you aren't thinking very hard. If we keep her in the lime light, in the public eye, President Snow can't touch her. The Capitol loves their victors." The words poured from her mouth.

"A bit too much," Finnick scowled.

"I will call Gossamer, have her set up some sort of Victory something, and then Annie will be guarded against even the president. Get some sleep, Finnick. You're going to need it, we will leave when you get back."

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><p><strong>It has almost been a month since I updated. A MONTH. Can you believe me? Who do I think I am? Pssh. I don't blame you if you've abandoned this story.<strong>

**GUYS! I am so terribly sorry. I promise that won't happen again. This story deserves to be finished. I hated not being able to write this story, but it just got so hard... On the upside, EIGHT DAYS! WE ONLY HAVE EIGHT DAYS LEFT.**

**Anyway, there was obviously a lot going on in this chapter, which made it more fun to write, but I don't know how well you readers like that. I thought that for three weeks of writer's block I jumped back in with a great start, but that's just me. I really want to play up the relationship between Mags and Calypso, I want them to be like grandmother and granddaughter. I just thought that was a nice, subtle touch to the story.**

**A huge thanks to leftmyheart on tumblr. She is the one who inspired me to pick this back up. Go follow her :D**

**Finally, thank you readers. I love you all. Please, let me know what you thought of this chapter and how you think the story is coming along. Constructive criticism is always welcome.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Where the tour begins a tad early.**

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><p>Annie could hear Mags in the other room, hissing at Gossamer over the phone. "Please, we have to make it sound official. We can't just start in Nine, that's out of order. Especially since you're visiting Cecelia every other weekend." She had never heard her so upset, so worried.<p>

"What's going on in there?" asked Vance as he settled into the sofa cushions beside Annie. She curled up, bringing her knees to her chest, with a tired sigh. Annie could hardly manage a shrug, she had barely spoken at all since returning home – not to anyone besides Finnick, anyway. "Are you going to leave again?"

Again, Annie answered with a simple shrug. Her green eyes, darker than ever since getting home from the Arena, clouded with haunted memories like sand stirred in the water, barely shifted at all to look at him. In the Games, Annie had seen Vance in Hollis, her brother, a protector. Now, she saw Hollis in Vance, a more painful reverse. She drew herself away from Mag's words for the slightest second, just long enough to utter a few words to her brother. "I think so," she said quietly.

He reached out and placed a hand over her ear, half cupping her cheek and pressing her hair against her face. "I'll go with you this time," promised Vance. His eyes were sure and steady, Annie watched them dance sadly. From the corner of her eye, it was like she was looking into his head, she could see him watching her being reaped all over again. The Reaping replayed in his mind again and again; Annie, falling to the ground and being dragged to the stage by Peacekeepers and comforted by Finnick and then taken away. He couldn't be there, he couldn't have protected her. "I'm going to go, too."

Annie was caught in a whirlwind of emotions. There was a spark of relief set off in her mind; she wouldn't have to face everything alone if Vance was with her. She wouldn't spend nights wishing it wouldn't be awkward to go in and ask Finnick if it was alright to stay with him because she was afraid of the dark, and even worse, her own nightmares. Yet, Annie hated the thought of him being part of the Capitol's evil plot against her; she didn't want him to be in any danger or of any use against her.

"I don't know if you're allowed to," she said, hanging her head. She couldn't shake the hollowness eating away at her.

It had been worse earlier, when they had been recapping the Games on television. Unlike the events themselves, it was mandatory to watch, though many people in District Four did. It marked the last hoorah, the day when the children stop celebrating and return to training in the Career centers. Annie had been out several times since returning home, she couldn't bear to go into those parts of towns. Athletic boys and girls with wired muscle who would easily have killed her in the Arena without second thought were taking to her more kindly than they should. Before the Games, Annie would have been shunned. Now, she was a figure of admiration to them, and she hated that. She also hated what they whispered about Rayne; how they said he was weak like all of the tributes that didn't win. In reality, he was stronger than she was. He was the one who fought to win, not her. However, that is not how the recap portrayed her.

Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith had sat in a booth all afternoon in front of the cameras, reporting on the Games. Only, instead of following fan favorites and those with the best scores through the Arena, they followed Annie. They remarked briefly about her score in training, a three, and agreed upon how she deserved at least a seven. Her swimming skills and her knot-tying abilities were too good to ignore, the Gamemakers probably never gave her the chance to show off for them – that sort of thing. Annie couldn't break away from the clips of the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. Caesar closed in on Annie as she examined the ring Finnick had given her as a token – the first thing she had done in the Arena – and made a few cute statements about how the Games had been good to them, bringing them true love and whatnot, and that they had now moved in together at the Victors' Village back in Four. No one could ignore the excitement flash through Annie's eyes as she saw the river for the first time, Claudius made it clear that it was the only reason Annie won. She couldn't argue. They said how daring a small girl like her was to dart in and back out of the bloodbath alive, with only a few images from Pascal. He was the one who had sliced her up as she ran away, not Hollis like she had thought.

She couldn't look as they showed clips from further on in the Games. Annie and her alliance with Hollis and Cael, making friends with the underdogs as Caesar had put it, won over many people in the Capitol. She hated hearing that, that they all thought she pitied them. Caesar was kind enough to assure the audience that Annie had made friends with Hollis in training and that was why they partnered up – she appreciated his way of winning over the crowds, he worded things so carefully that you couldn't help but love whatever he said. Annie shrunk back as they replayed their deaths, their murders. Soon, though, they had happily moved towards the communicator from Finnick and the alliance with Rayne. This was the Capitol's favorite highlight of the Games, naturally. It was also the time when they interviewed her family about her – something Annie was unaware of until then. Along with the footage of her saving Mira from drowning, a beautiful picture was painted of her, so strong yet so demure.

Then came her nightmares. Rayne's beheading. Hiding – Annie thought it had only been a few hours, but really it had been almost a day, the Gamemakers had kept the Arena in daylight. Pascal and Iem fought it out, tore each other apart, and everyone in the Capitol was certain that one of them was going to win. Annie was all but forgotten about. Then the Arena was flooded. Again, she learned her perception of time had been distorted by Gamemaker tricks. It had been hours before Iem and Pascal drowned, not minutes. Claudius made several foul remarks about how Annie won the Games without any blood on her hands, how she was weak, and she wholeheartedly agreed. The program had ended with Finnick reading his poem again.

Annie had been torn apart.

"I don't care, I'm going," protested Vance strongly. His eyes gleamed with a fiery strength Annie adored. He was protective of her, of their family, he always had been.

"Fine," sighed Mags, raising her voice slightly. It echoed off of the tiles in the kitchen. "We can start her off in Twelve and work our way back to the Capitol. She's scheduled to do her interview with Caesar next week, anyway. I'm sorry, where have you been? She couldn't do it right away because of her injuries and such!"

Even in separate rooms, Annie could hear Gossamer squealing with excitement on the other end of the line. It was too easy to imagine the spikey black-haired woman's glittering eyes light with happiness as she stood in some fine Capitol room. She didn't understand the severity of the situation, how the Capitol was watching her every move. It must be nice, Annie thought, to be living in a world of childlike ignorance.

Mags hobbled into the room, propped herself up on her cane beside the sofa arm, and looked to Annie and Vance with deep eyes whose colors shifted like a stormy day at sea. "Pack your bags, you two," she said. "Gossamer is meeting us at the train station in the morning."

* * *

><p>For the first time since returning home, Annie slept. Even without Finnick there. It wasn't like the full night's sleep she had been accustomed to in her former daily life, or even like the light, haunted sleep she suffered through every year as the reaping approached. It was cold and empty, though heavy and without nightmares. Annie managed to stay up late enough that she exhausted herself into slumber. She didn't worry about Careers or Gamemakers emerging from the shadowy corners of her bedroom when she was that tired and flicked out the light before sleeping until the sun rose. It might have only been for two hours, but Annie was thankful for it.<p>

Things were hastily thrown into Mags' suitcase that morning, just before they were supposed to be at the train station. Vance, Calypso, and Annie managed to stuff just enough into the bag before Mags noticed and sealed it up, though she suspected the woman knew all along. She stuck around to bid her parents goodbye as they trekked off to work, as well as to her brothers and Merrick. Annie lingered in her mother's arms a bit longer than she should have. She didn't want to leave again; her reason was that childishly simple.

They walked to the train station. Vance tried to draw as many words from Annie as he could, and she wished he would just stop. It made things unbelievably hard on her. It made her heart ache. It made her sick. Eventually, he resorted to asking about Finnick, a much easier topic on her. Calypso skipped ahead of them, even though she didn't know where she was going, and Annie watched her most of the time. It was refreshing how she could demand so much light to those around her.

The train station was unusually still. No reporters, no photographers, no distorted Capitol citizens stained with unnatural colors. Just the train and five people standing on the platform before it. Her prep team, her stylist, and Gossamer who couldn't take her eyes from her watch. Annie's eyes darted to the Peacekeepers standing in uniform behind them.

Annie watched her brother's expression shrivel into disgust as he laid eyes upon her prep team. Having never seen Capitol citizens in person before, his reaction was raw. She supposed that was what she looked like as well when she first saw them.

Ophelia bounced forward enthusiastically. Her eyes flashed with horror as she looked Annie over. Annie felt a twinge of disappointment; the woman's hair had been dyed from its natural shade to a grotesque looking red. "Just look at what you have done to yourself!" she exclaimed. Ophelia yanked at a lock of her hair, lifted her hand to examine her nails, and placed a finger under her chin to lift her face into the light. She shuttered.

"It's a good thing that District Twelve is nearly a day away, we will have plenty of time to work on you," chirped Charmant, pleased. His color scheme had been swapped, his hair was now pink and his tattoos were blue. His happy tone was too dulcet for Annie to listen to, mixed with the Capitol accent it was like having knifes stuck in her ears.

The Peacekeepers escorted Calypso and Vance back out of the train station, insisting that they couldn't go. Annie should have expected as much. One of them slipped her a kind word that they would make sure get home safe and sound.

They boarded the train and within five minutes, Annie was already growing claustrophobic. She passed the dining car and her old bedroom and Finnick's old bedroom – that was most particularly painful, she remembered how he pulled her aside and demanded that she try to win. She missed him.

"Here we are," said Gossamer, ushering Annie into the room modeled after the Remake Center. She wondered what this replaced. Annie was laid out on the 'operating table' by her prep team and they began work right away. The waxing, harsh shampoos and other various soaps that stung, and polishes that her body was doused with were not something she wanted to relive, but she kept quiet through the procedure just as she had before. She did, however, find herself fancying the shade of lavender that glossed over her nails. Annie, more desperate than distract herself than ever, had been paying more and more attention to colors. Finnick and Mags eyes, the sunsets, the ocean rumbling like thunder in the distance. She kept the littlest things committed to memory now.

Rea was in to visit much faster than last time, probably because the prep team didn't have as much work to do this time around. Any familiar face was welcomed by Annie, she was actually glad to see her stylist. "How have you been?" she asked with sympathetic eyes.

Annie just nodded. After a moment of thinking, selecting her words carefully, she answered, "Not so well."

Rea ran her fingers through Annie's hair, half inspecting and half comfortingly. "I'd be surprised if you weren't," she admitted. "You don't look broken down yet, so maybe things are getting better."

That wasn't true. Things were getting worse. Annie could blink without seeing some horror within the Arena. She agreed, though, for the sake of keeping things bottled up. "Yeah," she muttered.

She caught the distress that wrecked Annie's gaze. "So, I already have your dresses made up. They were going to be for the Victory Tour, but since this is being kicked off, I decided to use them."

Annie cocked her head, confused. "Why do you already have the dresses sewn?" she asked.

"I needed to keep busy after the Games," she whispered softly. Annie had misread something along the line of their conversation, or maybe even further back, but she knew now that the victors weren't the only ones suffering. What had been said to Rea? Annie shook her head, scolding herself, and decided that she didn't want to know. "So, for District Twelve, I created this violet gown. From what I have seen of the place, it's all covered in coal dust, all except the very seam of the district. By the fences, there are meadows filled with colorful flowers. I thought it would be nice to shower your dress with them."

"Flowers seem like a much better way to represent a district with such a miserable industry," said Annie quietly.

The image of an elaborate ball gown with creases and ruffles and folds, decked with so many living flowers one could hardly see the fabric came to Annie's mind. An hour later, when she was dressed and ready, Annie could barely recall that image.

She looked to herself in the mirror. It was Capitolesque, indeed, but not in the way she had expected. The violet gown fell to the floor, gathered at her waist, and clung to her torso. The loose petals were stitched to the hem of her skirt, beginning off white and deepening in hue the farther up the dress they were, eventually blending into the fabric. White to yellow, yellow to pink, pink to blue, blue to purple. And each was given a name, as well – rue flowers and evening and pink and blue primroses. Separate petals were sewn into mismatched flowers all over the dress. It was very pretty.

"It's good, right?" asked Rea. "Because I love it. It's very…you."

"Of course," agreed Mags as she poked her head in from the hallway. Her eyes sparkled cheerfully. "Who other than Annie could see District Twelve and think past the grit and grime of coal mining?"

It was awful and sickening how everything was covered with a permanent layer of coal dust in the district. Annie could see it in the worried lines of the men's and women's faces throughout Twelve, as well as in the cobblestone streets and the buildings and everything. Gossamer and Mags had explained to her that the Capitol allowed her out of District Four under the premise that she would be encouraging the Games, which was bad enough itself, but after seeing the place she couldn't imagine saying even a word about them. District Twelve was starving.

Out of absolutely nowhere, Finnick stood beside her with tired eyes embedded in dark circles. She knew she couldn't have been dreaming if he looked as awful as this. Annie's subconscious brought her Finnick before the Games, how he looked like this sometimes and it wasn't because the stress of training a helpless girl was eating away at him. She remembered how she had called him a whore. The entire picture fell into place suddenly, and Annie had a feeling she was the last one to understand it.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "What's happened to you?" Annie spat out questions one after another in a panic.

"Calm down, will you?" he asked with a smile as he pressed his lips to his forehead. Finnick knew all too well that there had to be cameras around, watching their every move. "It wasn't much. Just a rough few nights. You'd think that with all the pills going around in the Capitol–"

"Finnick!" scolded Mags, anger flashing in her eyes.

A giggle slipped past Annie's lips as they curled into a smile.

The pair looked at her in disbelief. Even Annie herself was shocked. She hadn't smiled, let alone _laughed_, since before the Arena. Finnick broke away from shock and into a wholehearted laugh as well. He draped his arms around her shoulders, kissed her forehead again, and lead her off of the platform. In only a matter of days, Annie had forgotten how reassuring it was to be so close to Finnick.

Gossamer trailed behind Annie like a flower girl required to hold a bride's train, she held the hem of her skirt above the dirty streets. Annie didn't feel as important as she was being treated.

They met the mayor in the district's square. He was better fed than anyone else Annie had seen passing in the district. He shook Annie's hand, and then Finnick's and Mags'. He smiled kindly to Annie. "You're not too much older than my daughter, only a couple of years," explained the mayor. "It's never been someone like you, not for as long as I can remember. You gave me a little more hope, especially with her in the reaping now."

Annie stammered, unsure of how to respond. Should she express pity? Should she be offended as to what 'someone like you' could have implied? She glanced to Finnick. He just nodded and squeezed her hand.

"It really shocked me that you, of all people, have decided to promote the Games," he whispered.

"I needed out of District Four, I suppose," said Annie quietly, matching his tone. Their eyes met for a brief second and, without words, Annie had told her story. She didn't know what she was doing. Finnick was the one with the answers.

Finnick was the one who had to do the dirty work. He gave a quick speech to the people already swarming in the market square, much to their displeasure. The feelings of the Games were too fresh to be touched; Annie could see it in all of their faces. It was the one time she felt awkward standing at Finnick's side. Gossamer lead them into the Justice Building, which in comparison to District Four's was like her cottage on the cliffs. Annie couldn't imagine a life like this, this crushing poverty and choking coal-filled air. Then again, the salt water was just as infectious.

"Hey!" A young woman caught Annie's arm as she stepped onto the boarding platform, more than ready to exit District Twelve. A millions faces rippled through her thoughts, bubbling to the surface of her mind; Rayne in the Arena, Finnick on multiple occasions, her mother to keep her from sneaking into the water one hot day at the beach, Vance holding her at arm's length the day of the reaping to reassure her. The touch of District Twelve was evident through her dull dark hair and olive skin. She was worn, like the rest of the district's residents, but somehow even more so. The same tiredness and panic had settled into her young face just as it had her parents and brothers, evident even now, weeks after the Games. Annie pulled away, not out of disgust, but of realization and horror.

The name fluttered from the tip of her tongue, merely a cold whisper. "Britte."

"He talked about me?" she ducked, hiding her face, hiding a smile that had all since disappeared since before the reaping. Annie supposed just the memory of him – not his death – was enough to cling to for her. Like Finnick's hand, in her equivalence, how he always seemed to pull her from the darkest, most disturbing and enthralling depths of her nightmares.

Of course he did, Annie wanted to say, but she could not force the words out. Forming the sound was too difficult, too frustrating, and came out like a throaty breath. She blushed in embarrassment. "Hollis talked about you the entire time," Annie said.

The young woman cringed at his name. Annie was dancing over wounds still too fresh to even begin to bandage. "They didn't pay much attention to him."

"I did." Annie gripped Finnick's hand. "I thought he was wonderful."

"Thank you," Britte gulped. "I'm sure he is, too."

It was like I let him die, Annie thought, he wouldn't be thanking me. Hollis, whom she had known for barely more than several days, had left such a phenomenal impression on her, it was unbelievable. His strong, warm, sincerely helpful handprint was left on her heart.

She was swept up onto the train by Finnick and Gossamer. Britte waved weakly as the train sped out of the station. The tarnished ring around her finger glinted in the dusty sunlight.

Something, an unnoticed nagging sensation in her chest, stirred within Annie.

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><p><strong>So how about that Hunger Games movie, eh? :)<strong>

**Upon the intense visual aspect of the film and rereading Catching Fire and Mockingjay, I have come to appreciate Annie and Finnick for the three dimensional characters that they are. I missed so much about them the first few times around. I cannot wait to bring new details into this story, I can't finish it if I don't. It will haunt me.**

**I really love every review, favorite, and follow this story brings to me. You're all fantastic. Please, continue to give me feedback. I don't want to disappoint with this story. Criticism is always welcome.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Where Annie receives horrible news.**

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><p>Annie could not sleep. Since they planned to travel down the Districts back to the Capitol – in other words, the poorest to the richest – Annie had to brace herself for some of the most miserable faces she ever expected to see. To her District Four eyes, the Capitol may have been grotesque and garish, but the rest of Panem was hungry and hollow. In the dark, in bed beside a snoring Finnick, her lips formed unspoken words of thanks. Even though things in her life were sinking faster than the old stories of the Titanic – an old fable that warned new boaters what catastrophes could happen on the water, though not a single sailor believed it anymore – Annie was thankful that it had been good up until that last reaping.<p>

District Eleven was painful to look at. From the train's window, it was a sea of green trees and sunny and bright, happy almost – if Annie didn't know any better. When they pulled into the train station, however, a worn-down old sort of building that probably wasn't a train station to begin with; Annie could see the district's blithe layer peeled back. Men, women, and children were perched in the branches of trees with tattered sacks slung over them to collect the fruit from the trees. It was too bright for Annie, even with her eyes adjusted to the constant reflection of sunlight on the water. Nearly all of Eleven's residents were dark skinned, and not from the sun like in District Four. While it may have been Annie's kind heart speaking up, she didn't see a single ugly face among them.

As she stepped from the train with a clutch on Finnick's hand and wearing another fabulous gown designed by Rea, her mouth stretched into a smile. The elegant song of mockingjays trilled, fluttered through the breeze. Not even the mellifluous music of the Capitol could compete.

The visit extended beyond what Annie considered healthy for her. Annie was sickened by it all, the hungry children and the overworked men and the women who couldn't wipe the sadness from their expression. A weeping mother, a sort of angel among them, gifted her with a bouquet of flowers. Annie could only assume that it was the twins' mother. To lose two loved ones – Annie replaced the word children for she did not have any, nor did she ever want any – it was unthinkable. A spark was lit within her. A bit more hatred directed at the cruel Capitol.

She was too busy disgusted with the Capitol to notice any more atrocity in District Eleven, aside from a tiny, dark skinned girl that couldn't have been more than seven who approached her as she was hurried to the train station. Her dark hair and bright eyes were instantly linked back to Calypso, as close a connection to the Games Annie hoped this adorable girl would ever have. She wished to take her into her arms and cradle her, promise her that nothing bad was ever going to happen to her, not ever again. Annie reminded herself that the girl was not Calypso. She had not lost her only family to the Games. She was good and safe, here in Eleven where she belonged.

"Rue!" a worried father called from the crowd. The girl drew back from the train, for she had inched too close. She turned and ran into her father's arms as he called her name again. "Rue!" His hard expression melted into relief as he held her close.

Annie began to cry, for no reason this time.

The visit to the next district, Ten, was over before the afternoon had faded away. Nine was nearly across the country, or so Annie was told by Gossamer, and it would be an overnight trip. She spent dinner wondering about District Eleven, even though she had no connection to it. Well, no connection other than Rue who looked too much like Calypso. Annie needed to tell the girl that when they returned, the girl might like to hear that someone was worrying about her.

"It's okay, Annie," whispered Finnick coolly as he pried her hands away from her ears. Annie hadn't even noticed that she was panicked, with her hands pressed over her ears and her eyes squinted shut. She stared at him with wide-eyed confusion. "It's okay. You're here, you're fine."  
>She simply nodded and drew in a deep breath through her teeth. Annie shook off the terror and began to pick at her plate, trying to ignore the awful stares of concern that she was receiving from around the table.<p>

"I have to introduce you to Cecelia while we are in Nine," chirped Gossamer. "You will just find her fantastic, I promise, Annie. She's another victor like you and mentored Cael."

It didn't sound interesting to Annie in the least; she struggled to mask her disinterest. "Why haven't I met any of the other tribute's mentors then?" she asked when her expression shattered and her eyebrows knitted together.

"I doubt you would have wanted to meet Haymitch," growled Finnick and then added, "from Twelve."

"I don't even know who mentored Eleven this year," muttered Gossamer, fading out as if into thought. She looked to Mags, puzzled. "Astrid, I believe?"

Annie remained in her chair until dinner was cleared from the table and everyone else had returned to their quarters. Finnick poked his head in after a few minutes of leaving her alone; she supposed he had to take another call from the Capitol about something. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked. "Not sick, I hope."

She shook her head. "Just empty."

"I know, Annie, I know." Finnick perched himself on the arm of her chair and looked down on her, green eyes glimmering. Something wasn't right, something had him terribly worried; Annie could read it as well as any book, for instead of words the story was printed in the lines of his face and the certain way his lips curled as he spoke to her. She wouldn't even bother to sicken herself trying to figure out what his distress was, that was too draining.

He extended his hand to her, which she gladly clung to, and led her back to the bedroom. Annie's quarters had been left untouched since boarding the train; she had slept with Finnick since leaving home. That was something she was going to be careful that her mother didn't find out about, nor would her brothers, for they all had too much on their plates anyway. Annie stripped from her fine clothes and into a nightie, one of her own this time. It amazed her with each simple graze of her fingers over fabric the drastic difference between Capitol fabric and District Four fabric. She crawled under the sheets and curled into a ball at the edge of the mattress, leaving enough space between herself and Finnick to fit another person. The lamp on the nightstand was left on for several minutes while he gathered something from under his pillow; ropes, Annie supposed, because Finnick liked to tie knots to relieve his stress. She felt her heartbeat leap into her throat and quicken, fluttering nervously. The initial, girly crush on him that she had felt when they first met had not worn off in the least bit.

She started slipping. Annie plunged headfirst into her nightmares, even with her eyes wide open. The arena built itself up around her, the Cornucopia mere meters from her face, and the river flowing behind it. There was a bloody patch in the grass down the way, the place she was certain Rayne had been beheaded. Half of Annie's face was pressed into the ground and the other was struggling to peer through the grass. Soon, ghostly figures of other tributes began to spar around her, reenacting the bloodbath – complete with the screams and injuries and deaths. She could not block any of it out, even if she closed her eyes, Annie didn't return to the warm bed on the Capitol train. The arena was no illusion; it didn't dissolve into her memory. It was unsettling to see Rayne again, fighting alongside the Careers – the dead Careers - as if nothing was wrong, the hope of returning home a victor still alive in his heart. Annie called for him, even though the ache in her heart knew it wasn't going to do him any good.

"Annie!" he screamed back, much to her surprise.

"Rayne!" exclaimed Annie again, just out of shock. She felt a disturbing sensation of happiness and utter fear swell within her chest. In a blink, the scene was gone. Finnick was inches from her face, the desperation she had sensed in his eyes amplified. She shrank into her pillows, embarrassed.

"Just remind yourself that it's not real anymore," he murmured, inching away from her. Finnick was quivering. He reminded her of herself, so scared and terrified all the time. So all of the sudden, too, only reinforcing the idea that he knew something that Annie didn't. Indeed, that had to be true, but Finnick knew many things that she didn't and that hadn't bothered her before now. Now, it was an itching sensation that she couldn't exactly ignore.

She nodded, even though Annie was mentally protesting. It had been real and it always would be, Finnick knew and understood that just as well as she did. He had to know that there was no way of moving forward, he had to. Annie shifted under the comforter, turning towards him. His hands rested in his lap, fingers twisted up in knotted ropes. She could name some of them; others looked like just a mess of rope. Annie stared at him for a long moment, with only the sound of train humming along the rails beneath them passing between the pair. Finnick was trying to tell her something, just with the gleam in his eyes, and she was unpracticed as to deducing such things.

"Everything's okay, right?" The words felt wrong coming from her. Nothing was okay, Annie knew that, but she couldn't help but go searching for some confirmation that it couldn't get worse.

"We're going to the Capitol, Annie," he reminded her. Finnick looked away from her face to his lap. "Nothing is okay." Finnick didn't mean to worry her, she saw that in his expression as he was quick to try and take his statement back.

She accepted this blindly. If Annie troubled herself with paranoid thinking any longer, she wouldn't sleep a wink that night. Maybe, if she were lucky at all, she could dream of home. It would surely leave her with a haunting, hollow feeling but it was better than watching the slaughter of the Hunger Games. Positive memories were being leeched from her mind slowly, but the most dearly loved remained – Vance teaching her to read from the book of fairy tales but the fire, trailing at her brothers' heels through the cobblestone market square in search for a birthday present for their mother, curling up between her mother and father as a small child when the nightmares of the Games were just too much for her, and her mother finishing up a new dress for her prettier than anything she had seen in a boutique window. Those were the things she would miss the most, the littlest things, her normal, treasured daily life she had kissed goodbye on both cheeks when she had been reaped.

Finnick swooped around, pressing his lips against hers. Annie's eyes widened in shock, utterly surprised. It took a good moment to assess the situation; they had kissed before, but never for so long on lips, it was at most a peck or simply planted on her forehead. She was even more startled when his lips began to move, so practiced and certain against her. She had never been so overwhelmed by something so simple before, she didn't know what to do. Finnick gripped her head with both hands, pressing the heels of his palms over her ears, knotting his fingers in her hair. Annie made the slightest attempt to kiss him back, but otherwise stayed still. She paid too much attention to the way his nose brushed her cheek and the way his soft lips felt against hers, so careful.

"Annie," murmured Finnick gently against her lips. She could feel the purr of his voice against her mouth. "Annie." Her name was said again and again. Finally, his lips curled into a smile and their foreheads rested together. Finnick broke away, leaving Annie to gasp for air. "Annie!"

"What?" she asked, breathlessly. "_What?_"

He kissed her again, even more powerfully this time. When Finnick broke away, he looked apologetic. "I'm sorry," he whispered throatily with swollen lips. "I needed that out of my system."

Annie stared at him for the longest time – or what seemed like it. She didn't comprehend. She didn't understand. Amidst her confusion, Annie could hear her mother chastising her somewhere in the far corners of her mind. "_Annie, he is too old for you! Annie, you are much too young! Annie, what are you thinking? Annie! Annie!_" Frustrated, Annie leaned forward and kissed him. She broke away understanding what he meant by needing it out of his system.

Guilt flushed throughout Finnick's face. "I would say that you need practice," he said with a smirk playing at his lips. "But, no, you don't. Annie…"

She looked to him with wide, questioning eyes. She didn't understand, not in the least.

The rest of the night was awful, she forced herself to sleep through the nightmares because the terror was nothing compared to the guilt she would feel if she woke Finnick up, and the morning was the same. It took nearly two hours to prep Annie for District Nine, even though her dress was nothing extraordinary. And it wasn't until they were already standing on the stage, facing the small crowd of people that populated District Nine that Finnick told her she had to speak with Cael's family like she had with Hollis' fiancé because they had been allies. Nothing could have been worse for her to here. She didn't want to face the loved ones of the little boy she couldn't help and let slip away so easily. The boy who she still thought was much too young to see such horrors. It didn't matter how good her words were, thought, for they served her no good. The district loathed her simply from being from Four, just as Cael said.

She ended her halfhearted speech with a sincere statement that brought tears not only to her eyes, but much of the crowd. "Cael wanted me to say, made me promise I would say, that he was happy to be my ally. And I was happy to be his. I am very sorry that I couldn't have done anything more to help him. He was a great friend." Annie broke into a helpless sob, but didn't drop the microphone from her lips. She felt heavy as the tears washed down her cheeks. Finally, she mustered, "thank you."

Annie was relieved when most of the visit passed without her catching even a glimpse of Cael's family. She was clutching Finnick's arm as he led her onto the train and had fooled herself into thinking that maybe she wouldn't have to see them when they caught her. A mother with dark circles under her eyes and a sister that looked too much like him for her own good who carried a loaf of bread. Annie remembered what Cael had said to her, they had to make everything to the Capitol's standards here, whereas District Four just shipped the seafood out without much thought. It must have been too expensive for their family to eat and the facts that the girl placed it in her hands made her want to give it back.

"Thank you, Annie Cresta," said Cael's mother. "I could really tell that he trusted you." His sister nodded in agreement, reinforcement.

"It was mutual," she assured quietly. Annie's voice was wearing out.

"He wouldn't want anyone to dwell on him like this," his mother continued, "certainly not you. He is happy in a much better place now." It sounded although she was still trying to convince herself of that.

"I know," said Annie sadly. She handed the bread back to the little girl. She immediately looked confused. "You keep it. I've got enough, trust me."

She bid them a sorrowful farewell as she boarded the train. Annie refused to go any further than the dining car, for her legs were beginning to give out from under her. She sank into one of the chairs, slumped over the table, and began to cry again. She hated crying, hated that empty feeling it left her with that ate out everything sane from her heart, but she couldn't contain herself for any longer.

Finnick looked to her sadly, searching for the words to say. Instead of opening his mouth, he just rested his hands over her shoulder blades. His touch soothed her, kept her from jerking about in her mindless state. She gasped for air and he knew things were coming to an end.

"You're quite different from every other victor, you know that, Annie? The Capitol doesn't expect someone with a heart to win; they don't expect to hear kind words about the tributes from the winner." His thumb trailed gently along her spine. "You are better than the rest of us, Annie, and it amazes me that you don't see it."

District Eight wasn't anything special. District Seven was irritating – Finnick met with an old friend there, another victor, who kept him in conversation for hours and Annie couldn't handle listening to the woman's violent stories that Finnick seemed so amused with. District Six. District Five. They skipped District Four, because that was where they started. District Three was overwhelming; Annie had seen so much technology that she couldn't fathom it was stressful. District Two was frightening; the families of the Careers scoffed at her and made rude remarks throughout her visit. District One was even worse. The déjà vu that came tacked onto arriving in the Capitol train station was terrifying, she felt as if she were walking to the Arena again. Annie threw a fit in her quarters and couldn't be coaxed out by anyone other than Finnick, who eventually carried her from the train. That made for quite the spectacle to the many reporters waiting to see them, the happy couple.

"This is just going to be so much fun!" chirped Gossamer excitedly as she introduced them to upgraded living quarters for their stay. "You get to meet all of the victors and the Gamemakers and everyone who is anyone in the Capitol! You get lovely food, think of what you had in training only better! You get fancier dresses and…" Annie closed out her ears, unable to process anything more. Gossamer simply spoke too fast for her. She was like a bird that always had a song to sing, no matter how good or bad.

Finnick was ready before she was and came into visit while her prep team scurried about around her. Annie cracked a smile. She had only seen him in slacks and, if they were anywhere outside of Four, a plain shirt. He had worn some distorted fashion for the mentor interviews, which he also had canceled, which was expected and Annie had been braced for. But Finnick had never been seen in a tuxedo. The best word she had for it was dashing, he looked dashing in his sleek black suit.

"What do you think?" he asked, playfully spinning for her. Annie's smile shattered into an uncomfortable squeal when Charmant ripped out a strip of hair on her leg. As the pain dulled on her shin, she smiled again. He was almost obnoxiously handsome.

"It's nice," she promised. Her prep team looked to her and then each other in confusion, unable to understand what she had said. Annie had grown accustomed to that expression, not many people now could comprehend her babbling.

Finnick stayed by her side through the rest of her tedious preparations, aside from when she was being dressed, and then escorted her to the ballroom where the celebration was being held. Violent shivers shook her body and panic set in as Claudius Templesmith announced her entrance. It was as if she were being welcomed into the Arena again. The skirt of her red ball gown brushed the polished floors as they descended the staircase onto the ballroom floor, her eyes scanned the crowd. Feathers, glitter, and intricate beading were popular among the avant-garde costumes the Capitol residents wore. And to think this was their expected, subtle attire, Annie was shocked and disgusted.

"Just don't talk about what you see here now," murmured Finnick in her ear casually. "Yes, it's all wrong and yes, it's disturbing, but we don't want them to know that. They are all like children and take offense to things much too easily."

Annie nodded and promised herself that she would bite her tongue if anything came up in conversation. She had been prepped by Gossamer and Mags that she must be friendly, keep a smile on her face, her chin up, and the sort throughout the night. She knew she was going to have to talk to people and pretends to enjoy herself when really there was nothing she wanted more to be home in District Four.

"Annie Cresta!" remarked a man from across the ballroom. Annie didn't see who it was until he stood before her and Finnick. It was so strange to be approached, she expected everyone to be uppity and look down on her for being from the districts. But this man was different; he was clearly a Capitol citizen who was more than happy to be speaking with her. Annie tried to get a good look at his face, but she was distracted by the dark stubble on his chin that wrapped around his face and was groomed into an unnatural curly design. "And Finnick Odair! Two of my favorite Games, wouldn't you know."

"Good to see you again, Seneca," greeted Finnick coolly. He spoke again with that seductive purr he had used constantly before the Games. Annie supposed that was how people in the Capitol knew him. "Annie, this is–"

"Seneca Crane," the man finished, extending a hand to her. She shook it weakly. "Head Gamemaker. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"And you as well," said Annie, a smidge too formally.

"It has been quite some time since anyone has shown such spectacular swimming skills in the Arena," Seneca praised. "It was certainly a show here in the Capitol." Annie sensed a lie behind his kind words; she knew it wasn't very entertaining to their sick minds.

"Thank you?" she said unsurely.

"It's a shame we won't be able to see that again!" he smiled. There was a gleam in his pale eye that she caught and was unsettled by. Annie shrank back against Finnick.

"Quite," agreed Annie.

Seneca Crane, Head Gamemaker, waved to someone distantly behind the pair and casually bid goodbye to go and talk with them. Finnick opened his mouth to say something to them, when more congratulations boomed about them. This time, a crowd of people swarmed about. Annie noticed their tired eyes and natural hair colors and knew they must be from the districts, and therefore, victors. The ferocious woman from District Seven, an obviously pregnant woman, and a raggedy man.

"Annie, this is Johanna, Cecelia, and Haymitch." Finnick growled the final name. Annie could tell they were at odds with each other.

Cecelia, a kind-looking woman with dark hair and a bulging stomach, smiled and shook Annie's hand. She wasn't that much older than Finnick, by only a handful of years at most. "I mentored your ally," she said, "Cael. I know it says everywhere that his mother mentored him, but I promised to look after him instead. Either way, you did the best with that."

Annie's heart saddened. She had forgotten Cael was the child of a victor; the Arena was an unavoidable fate for him. The thought of his heartbroken mother mentoring him made her sick. How was this the way the Capitol got their kicks? It was unthinkable. "I tried," she muttered.

"Let's not get all sappy," sputtered Haymitch. The man's breath reeked of strong liquor, even from an arm's length away. He clutched an empty bottle in his hand as well. "My tribute was her ally, too, and what does that matter now? Aside from the fact that he broke a bottle over my head and had me sober up for him?"

Hollis. This man, this hopeless drunk of a man, mentored Hollis. Suddenly, she felt pity for her passed friend. Not the sort of pity she mostly felt, for not being able to save them or just for being dead at the hands of twisted Gamemakers like Seneca, but a friendly and almost happy pity. Like, I'm sorry that you had to put up with this horrible man but at the same time it's comical so we can smile and laugh about it. Annie smiled as a warm, bubbly sensation filled her. If Hollis tried to make this stubborn fool sober up, he was set on returning to Britte.

Finnick squeezed her hand. "Annie is very grateful that you tried your best to help your tributes, she feels very close to them."

"Well, we all know how close she feels to you," sneered Johanna. Annie cringed at her voice. "We all saw those pictures, Finnick Odair. What the hell were you thinking?"

It had been a lengthy stretch of time since Annie had thought about that awkward photo shoot or the magazine in which the pictures appeared. Her cheeks brightened red, embarrassed.

"_Mags and Gossamer _were thinking that it was going to earn her some sponsors," he said, snarling the correct names.

Johanna didn't appear very pleased with that response.

The night passed in a whir of colors and strange hairstyles. Annie found herself in the bathroom scrapping feathers from her tongue several times because they were flying about the ballroom and she kept accidently sucking some in, while meanwhile Capitol women were throwing up their deserts so they could gorge themselves more. The final guest she had to be introduced to was by far the most frightening; President Snow waited for her at the very front of the ballroom.

"Annie Cresta," he smiled as he said her name, his puffy lips curled into a disturbing smile. His breath smelled of blood and he wore a smelly rose as white as his thinning hair. "Our newest victor. I do hope that you are enjoying yourself here."

"I am, sir." It was the loudest and most formal she had been all evening, her tone was drenched with respected and fear alike. It didn't occur to Annie that he could do anything more to her, to go beyond the Games and harm her in another way, all she thought was that he was the snake truly responsible for killing not only Cael and Hollis and Rayne, her friends, but the Careers and other tributes who had been nothing but innocent kids before the Reapings.

"I would like to congratulate you on the Games well played, my dear," said President Snow. "It is always a good show when the victor hasn't killed a single tribute, always interesting." He sneered those last words, Annie was now certain that the Capitol wasn't pleased with her. "In fact, I don't believe that it's happened since the Fortieth Games."

Annie just smiled and nodded, unsure of how she was expected to respond to that. She looked to Finnick, but he simply stood as a stone statue beside her, staring blankly at the president, more terrified than she had ever seen him. He was as white as a ghost. She gripped his hand tighter. He knew something that she didn't.

"Again, congratulations," said President Snow, eyeing Finnick. "I hope to be seeing you again in the Capitol sometime soon." He strode away with a final smile to the pair of them.

"What was that?" hissed Annie under her breath, as soon as President Snow was gone.

"I'm so sorry, Annie," said Finnick. He held her head over his heart for the rest of the night, swaying to the music to fool the onlookers. He couldn't dance while he cried.

Annie threw herself through the front door to Finnick's house, dead-tired and happy to be back in District Four. "Mom!" she called. Her voice echoed off of the bare walls. Annie wandered through the house before repeating, "Mom! Vance!" The first floor was empty, the second was bare. The entire house was vacant. Panic flooded her. It wasn't a day that they had to work. They should be in the house. "They just went to look for me at the station," Annie convinced herself, "they just went to look for me at the station."

Finnick and Mags followed in behind her. Their reactions terrified her. Mags dropped her suitcase to the floor and Finnick bolted upstairs. Clothes spilled out from Mags' suitcase, including Vance's t-shirts that he packed when they thought he could tag along, as well as Calypso's jumpers. Annie looked to the old woman, confused, and followed her as she hobbled into the kitchen. The beds were unmade and the dishes were in the sink, her family had been here recently, the house was lived in, and yet she panicked. Annie nearly broke down listening to Finnick scream for his father upstairs.

Annie didn't understand what had happened until she saw the white rose on the kitchen table, the white rose that was identical to the one pinned to President Snow that night in the Capitol ballroom.

* * *

><p><strong>I know I promised an update on Friday, but I didn't have wifi and I'm sorry!<strong>

**Anyway, I really hoped that you lovely readers enjoyed this chapter. It made me very sad to write... Thank you to everyone who favorited/reviewed/followed. I appreciate every one of you. Please, let me know what you thought, constructive criticism is always welcome!**


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